Tuesday, July 27, 2010

River Walk


Morning dresses the Grand's

curved meander.


Sun has yet to penetrate,

delineate and define

with light; denounce

the lack of clarity

in shoreline trees —


five ducks tacking

lazy eddy, time looped

and looped again —


gold ring settled

on your finger reflecting

without presence.


It's difficult to cut

night from day

with surgical precision,


remove dark garments

from the hidden,

reveal faces in a face,

translate our language


from the fog's

pidgin silence.

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