Saturday, October 7, 2017


the liquid
sometimes silver
at times brackish
sometimes seeding, straining

(silver  mercurial wetness 
of broken feelings
in the eye)

on which our dreams sail
like little boats

we come, we bow, we wait
as kids for sprinkles
we wade gingerly, we surrender
& sparkle

we feel the lower and higher currents
twirling & writhing
like eels
around our legs & middle

patches & glints
the tune
of upper & lower lights

i feel the tow, the backpull
the wash and slurp
i swallow; am swallowed
while small birds cavort
high up
against the summer blue

the draw 
of plugholes
to new insights
phases that dribble in, stumble, then swell

the liquid of our dreams; then ... 
moments of
into solidness, constituents, continents

we live, pulsing, flickering
beside the river
within us

F.M. Oct 2017

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