We may yet call this river, God.
It contains everything
In the world we know
Translucent waters flashing
The pain, the toxicity, the
Solemn vastness of peace.
Harmonic eclipse of impending doom as
Weary timbers clatter from the banks
Across the divide to
Inhibit, as the Gulf of Iran Blockade,
Any forward passage of our plastic skiffs.
Otters slip through broiling rivlets,
Great Blue Herons navigate
like ancient Pterodactyl’s
The narrow slit of river
Where Piliated Woodpeckers delight
Their newly exposed treats,
Tiny pan fish nibble carelessly on our toes, as
Giant cypress soldiers stare imperiously
Occupying ground along these soggy banks,
Assuring, “We’ve been here
A very long time.”