The Mythical River Beast
I watched it emerge
from out of the fog, monumental
in size, a sheer cliff face of steel
moving pass me, almost
quieter than my breath
but for a whispered wake
running from its bow.
Something this big
should have made
more noise.
A black hull bore scars
of scrapings and rust bleeding out
of fissures along its length.
The fog seemed to oil its way,
its shape looming large
then slowly growing smaller
as it slid down river until
it dimmed and disappeared.
In that moment its passage
was a mystery, a brief apparition
of something beyond the dimension
of ordinary things. The quiet
of its passing, the dark bulk
and beauty of its presence
was magnificent
and overpowering.
It was like a shadow cast
by a mythical beast
coalescing out of history,
infiltrating the mind then
dissolving once more
into a place somewhere
hidden in its magical past,
suddenly brought back
to this world
with its registered port
written in rusty lettering
on its stern - MONROVIA
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