A River Story
At dawn the river is still,
Yet full from rain, a curved moon wanes
The western shore; on the river road lights shine
then enter again the ancient forest,
Vast and silent, clasped to the river’s bent edge.
Stand with me here and breathe the new morning!
See lines of geese now south bound
Lit by the soon gone moon and unseen sun,
Hear the geese sing above this silence,
Of frozen time, before the forest grew.
Hear again the silence as they fly
Beyond our senses; then hear the new,
As now again the ancient sounds come
In southbound sadness.