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= 15 =

About The Poem

This is definitely an autumn poem, maybe a Thanksgiving one, but I get a sense of Europe about it. It is one of my most formal ones, filled with the motions of the river. I get a sense of safety amid the danger of life and the world. We live breakneck lives and yet there is adventure in our survival. I feel very much like a painter here, capturing all the quick, darting motions of water in its currents and counter-currents.

Autumn River

Swirling roundly, river flow,
by cobbled banks
and marshy shores,
racing like the clouds
in a cold gray wind;

Standing windblown in the eddies
at your swollen rim,
reeds and swamp grass lean,
beaten by the spray of
foam boats rolling by;

Running moody, River talk
to fish laid on the banks, and
wild geese darting in the gray;
Under wharves and bridges, 'round
small boats backing as
you roll along;

Gripping frothy waves with
curling fingers ride
dying leaves, drifting
from the marsh stream in a circle
then into your center stream;

Dark waters, run along
with your booty on your heaving back,
squawking as you rumble, but faintly
for the noise you make:

Festive turkeys stolen from the farm,
bucking boxes from the pier, and
trees you've bitten off with
grinding teeth of thunder;

Happy am I, with
my net ashore, and
my dinghy on the wharf, and
my pantry filled for winter feasts:

Godspeed, Autumn River!

Copyright (c) 2017 by A. T. Nager Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved. You may not copy or use this material without the author's and publisher's written permission for any purpose under penalty of US and international law.