Salzach
A working river;
no madrigal
no moodwater
no moondive.
A vicious cut through stone
past deer and belief
curves with pebbles
rope and stone.
An audience of trees
watch hands and salt form
bends of hard grass
and wild mint.
When I am considered lost
you pull at my sleeve,
slow with dark water,
alone and old, but safe.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2015
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