A river of words flows by

This entry was posted by on Thursday, 25 November, 2010 at

I hear the murmur of vowels,
little spits of consonants in a language
pleasing, though foreign to my ears.

There’s a house of cards at the river’s edge
with symbols beyond my ken,
I see the cards building higher and higher,

see them bend and sway with the wind,
a flag flutters and falls
and the cards come tumbling down.

A river of words flows by,
minnows dart in and out,
a vowel here, a consonant there, caught

in their open mouths. They understand
the river, a silent eloquence
written with flashing tail.

I must learn the art of fishing

     first published in RATTLESNAKE REVIEW

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