rain hammers against concrete and wood
distant leaves hang on until the wind wins
the seasonal tug-of-war
let the Mary Miller’s lines go
catch them again
walk the Belle decks
whisper to the boiler and pumps
sharing our stories of the past season
the cityscape looms starboard
its light erasing the stars
the wharf grows into an endless plain
and out the portside
the river stretches wide arms
to everywhere
Category Archives: river life
from ‘the river north to South Point’ poem 4
I woke up one morning a bit of a grizzly old man
wearing four days of beard
hiding unruly hair under a ball cap
looking for river haints, adoring me moon
turning my back on reflections
uncut by river currents
from ‘the river north to South Point’ (for Amanda)
My love, I want to describe to you the waxing crescent rising opposite the setting sun: the waters of the Ohio sitting calm, cut like lead crystal — lovely and unreflective. And the moon, the moon Beloved, cutting open the evening sky, an eternity of pink red orange into another endless river.