Narrative To Poem, River of Ribbons

Narrative for River Of Ribbons Poem 'The Symphony of the River' I sit, and observe; To the left of me, A large, semi-circle, spreads, into a wide arc, almost to the middle; When, unexpectedly, The East Wind, blows, a short, sharp, gust, And it lifts up, tiny points of steel, that look like a baby hedgehog’s spine; They rise and jump, dancing up and down, Like fluid needle-pins, drawn to an invisible, magnetic, master. At the edge of this frenzy, A smooth, black, shard appears, Stretching, wide, and out, Over-taking the dancers, to finish in an apex, like a piece of broken, black glass; It reflects, the colourless bird, in the damp, grey, clouds. To the right, from the bank, stretching over, to the far side; A narrow ribbon, of luminous, smoke-tinted, satin, almost reaches the opposite bank, Rippling, like a thin, flat, streaming flag. Suddenly, the wind, purposely blows, another gust, Down, and along, the surface, Transforming all into a feathering-fan; Like the murmur of starlings, in joy and at play, And I listen, to the music.