Summary3 min read

Podcast Summary: The Slowdown – Episode 1484: “Crossing” by C. Rees

Host: Maggie Smith
Date: April 1, 2026

Main Theme

In episode 1484 of The Slowdown, Maggie Smith explores the poetic symbolism of rivers—how they serve not only as recurring motifs in poetry but as conduits of history, memory, and deep-seated emotion. Through a thoughtful introduction and a reflective reading of C. Rees’s poem "Crossing," the episode invites listeners to consider rivers not just as physical boundaries but as spaces of transformation, haunting, and familial connection.

Key Discussion Points and Insights

Rivers vs. Oceans in Poetry

[00:48] Maggie Smith opens by reflecting on the common poetic allure of the ocean, describing its vastness and mystery, and noting its frequent appearance as a metaphor in poetry.
She pivots to rivers, acknowledging their poetic potential: "They're so often symbols of movement and freedom, like the open road but with water."
Maggie cites iconic river poems—Langston Hughes’ “The Negro Speaks of Rivers,” Walt Whitman’s “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry,” Longfellow’s “To the River Charles,” and the river Styx from Greek mythology—demonstrating the river’s literary legacy.

The River as Boundary and Muse

Maggie shares a personal connection as an Ohioan, referencing the Ohio River and poet James Wright, who captured the river’s more ominous, haunted qualities in his work.

"Fun fact – the word 'Ohio' means 'great river,' so Ohio River translates to Great River River." (Maggie Smith, 02:10)
She stresses that rivers in poetry are not just symbols of beauty or freedom—they can also signify violence, history, and complexity.

Introducing and Contextualizing “Crossing” by C. Rees

Maggie sets the stage for today’s poem, hinting at its setting—not the familiar Ohio, but the wintry Delaware River.
The river is described as both beautiful and haunted, echoing earlier themes in the introduction.

Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

On Rivers as a Literary Device

"How could you stand on a beach and look out at the waves...without being moved? ...But today I’m thinking about another body of water. I’m thinking about the poetic potential of rivers." — Maggie Smith (00:56)

Reflecting on James Wright and Rivers

"River, the boundary between Ohio and West Virginia, was James Wright’s muse, but it’s not idealized in his work. In fact, it’s often depicted as a violent and haunted place." — Maggie Smith (02:20)

Reading of “Crossing” by C. Rees (Poem Highlight)

The poem journeyed through the cold winter Delaware, exploring the mingling of natural and human detritus—the “trash,” “bones,” and “plastic forks” alongside the “brook trout” and “sturgeon.”
The speaker encounters family, memory, and loss in the river; the haunting imagery of a father, a scar, and fading presence culminates in a fleeting, almost mystical encounter:

"The scar on his spine is a sturgeon seen briefly. He smiles, I think, at me. The sky is white behind his head. His teeth are lost in it, then his body’s steam, then his body." (04:43)

Timestamps for Important Segments

00:48 – Maggie’s reflection on oceans and rivers in poetry
02:10 – Discussion of Ohio River, James Wright, and the symbolism of rivers as more than just boundaries
03:15 – Connections to other literary rivers: mythology, biblical stories, and American poetry
03:45 – Introduction and contextual framing of “Crossing” by C. Rees
04:06 – 05:12 – Full reading of “Crossing”
05:12 – Maggie’s closing affirmation of poetry’s role in our daily lives (brief, before the outro and calls for support)

Tone and Style

The episode maintains Maggie Smith’s familiar, contemplative, and inviting tone. She effortlessly weaves literary history with personal reflection, making poetry accessible and deeply resonant, even for casual listeners. The reading of “Crossing” is somber, vivid, and emotionally charged, capturing both the grit and the mystery of the river landscape.

Summary

This episode of The Slowdown offers rich meditation on rivers as both literal and metaphorical spaces. From poetic tradition to personal memory, Maggie Smith guides listeners through literary riverscapes before anchoring the episode in the evocative imagery of C. Rees’s “Crossing.” The poem—and Maggie’s reflection—remind us of rivers’ power to bear witness to time, loss, and fleeting connection. For listeners, it’s a gentle five-minute immersion into the depths of poetic seeing and feeling.

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Transcript2 lines

[00:00]
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[00:49]
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I'm Maggie Smith, and this is the Slowdown. The ocean gets a lot of attention, poetically speaking. There are so many poems about the sea, so many metaphors and images. How could you stand on a beach and look out at the waves? Or wade in and let the briny water hold you without being moved? The ocean is enormous and seemingly endless. When you look out, you can't see the far shore, and unless you're in the shallows, when you look down, you can't see the bottom. Poets have been seduced by the sea's mystery since ancient times. But today I'm thinking about another body of water. I'm thinking about the poetic potential of rivers. They're so often symbols of movement and freedom, like the open road but with water. And countless poems feature rivers in them. Langston Hughes, the Negro, speaks of rivers about the Mississippi is a famous one, and Whitman's Crossing, Brooklyn Ferry about the east river, and Longfellow's to the River Charles. We can even go further back to Greek mythology and the river Styx, said to separate the world of the living and the underworld. The myth tells of Charon, a ferryman who transported souls across it in his boat. There's also the biblical story of Baby Moses being placed in a basket, set to float away on the Nile river to escape Pharaoh's decree. All of these images spring to mind when I think about rivers in literature. But as an Ohioan, I think most of all about the poet James Wright, who was raised along the Ohio River. Fun fact the word Ohio means great river, so Ohio river translates to Great River. River, the boundary between Ohio and West Virginia, was James Wright's muse, but it's not idealized in his work. In fact, it's often depicted as a violent and haunted place. Today's poem carries us to the Delaware river, cold and dark in winter, and also a place that feels both beautiful and haunted. Crossing By C. Reese in winter, the Delaware still sluices summer's trash past my body in the shallows off the Wing Dam on the Jersey side. Cold purges the banks of mud, ever moving water shale black and time bitten, a color reserved for years. Old paintings of the sea. The season's silt will stay until spring. Spring brings up all that's buried, my people knifed with sunlight, hunching the river toward Trenton, where the world took and further east, shambling with small devotions. Brook trout, sturgeon, tomato husks, plastic forks, the tribute of bones. The dead are a species who grow and shrink. Oh, we leapt and speared our thighs on rotten Chevy axles, the rivers a snarl thick as gar armor, defiant with faces burnt with dye from the dead. Upriver mills scribbled with fish hooks, unwriting the drowned statue's lips. Now I crawl out, steaming like a dumped skunk, my father beside me, naked. The scar on his spine is a sturgeon seen briefly. He smiles, I think, at me. The sky is white behind his head. His teeth are lost in it, Then his body's steam, then his body. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. Find us on Instagram lodownshow and bluesky.slowdownshow.org. Hi, it's Maggie. Thanks for listening to the Slowdown. Whether you press play to find calm or vivid inspiration, we're glad you're here. As a public media podcast, we rely on listener support to share these moments of poetry. Please consider donating today@slowdownshow.org donate.