herons stalk the edge of
civilization; the river
sings a marbled song
of fire and forgotten glory while
the sun casts about the rapids; geese
fish from the shallows, men
from the bridge. stones bake;
clouds come and go
like the old women searching
the banks for change and lost
youth while a train slows
with its mourner's whistle and i
lean on the edge of
wildness, watching.
Joanna Lee, VA, USA
I Loved this. Especially, "...like the old women searching
ReplyDeletethe banks for change and lost
youth..."
I liked the part Martin liked too; it was all lovely, but the "marbled song of fire and forgotten glory" sang to me most.
ReplyDeleteCrafty Green Poet--you really have either an eye or ear [or both] for lovely imagery--great choices you make for this site.
Liked the images here, particularly "like the old women searching the banks for change" and the train whistle.
ReplyDeleteloved it ...same the part that martin liked :)kp it up ...
ReplyDelete