Barry Levy Poet Verse

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

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