by Patricia Fargnoli
They rose up from the riverbank
bending their dark shapes over the water
like pillars that had been leaning too long
in the sun and wanted to rest.
And yes the river was lovely in its long
feline flowing over and around the river stones.
But the trees were splendid in their own right
shaking their beads, pasting glitter around their cheeks,
and oh how they fell, loosening their roots
swooning into the moving water,
which carried them on its back downstream,
their voices reverberating along the airways,
promising their lovers
before long they would return.
Last updated January 05, 2012