WAVING GOODBYE TO RIVER ROAD
Stopping here, what
would you like to remember?
Slant ceilings and a pink wooden floor, black bamboo
moving in from Ray and Judy's next door, leaf light
filtering the windows, green overlapping
green, fronds cupped along the encasement
glimmer like farewell flags from a torn kitchen screen.
Bed and sofa gone. Nothing left but a few loose
mornings to follow the river path, pause
as the blue heron slips her pencil sharp legs
into August water, alert for silver fins, a flash,
light shimmer of skin. Here for one extended
moment you will rise and lift the swing rope;
fly out over river rock, a dead goat, and gloden beer cans
clasping the burning strings for life in your strange new hands.
© by Susan Rich