Water Clock
The river
from a distance
is
a plate of glass
a looking glass
riddled with
images and visages
of memories
and pain
rain beats down
on the cool veranda
as we listen
to the breathing
of the night
and all its
dimensions
and the pretensions
of a pumpkin-faced
moon
On the banks
of the river
up close
we smell
the fresh race
of hydrogen
and oxygen
sweet berries
wildflowers
lush grass
and microbes
rushing
without halt
whispering
to the trees
and sun
and soil
and whoever
else
might be
leaning in
and listening
Copyright © Barry Levy | Year Posted 2016
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