Friday, March 8, 2013

The River Knows

The river knows but she won't tell
as she wanders through the dell
keeping secrets dark and deep
along her banks, the shadows creep

Keeping secrets dark and deep
where catfish lie and fishes sleep
where rocks grow green and sunlight fades
and black eels lurk amidst the blades

Where rocks grow green and sunlight fades
and weaving fronds are pretty maids
she sings her song, in foreign tongue
the burbling chortle of the young

She sings her song in foreign tongue
her melody a tune unsung
a gentle roll, a surge a rush
of heavy water through the brush

A gentle roll, a surge a rush
of water pressing with a crush
perhaps my heart would be consoled
to feel the rush and hear the cold

Perhaps my heart would be consoled
if I could heed the tale she told
The river knows, but she won't tell
as she weaves her water spell

2 comments:

Cassandra said...

I love this! The imagery, cadence and sensual expression.

Truly lovely, La. :)

Poorna Metro said...

awesome river and voice. there's this sweet power in your work that's so present in this one.