Sunlight on the flood
and a sharp breeze chops ripples
into emeralds,
diamonds, sapphires, rubies;
but not for plump princesses.
Midnight and the flood
and the flashing buoys tumble
jewels brighter yet
deep into our dark channels
where no thief can come to them.
Gems of the river,
the more precious not to have
served time round the necks
of ritzy women or in
some sound and safe deposit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment