the following poem written for an online poetry class: "What does the river say when it speaks to you?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It wasn’t the current that woke me~ nor the moon’s cracked reflection slipping between the reeds. It was the hush, the way the water paused mid-sentence, as if gathering words from the silt, from the bones of fish who forgot how to swim upstream. Then~ a voice like wet stones, like roots unbraiding. Listen, it said, not to me, but to the banks, to the willow’s slow bow, to the heron’s hollow legs standing knee-deep in time. I waited for meaning, for a prophecy curled in riverweed. But the water only chuckled a sound like pebbles rolling downhill~ and flowed on, carrying its secrets to the sea’s open mouth.
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