River is the constant
like children running wild
across the earth. I hang my hat
by Gudenå, Potomac,
Zambezi and Sumida
and watch the river passing
passing with its metaphors;
passing to the sea with
sticklebacks and crocodiles with
tsunami silt and bull sharks,
pike and crane. From Tinnet Krat;
through Occoquan; from Mwinilunga;
under Chuo Ohashi; river crashes,
yawns, meanders, tumbles.
Carries my reflections; away
from Hamarikyu wild duck graves;
away from Mosi-oa-Tunya; away
from Picasso stone, Fountainhead;
from Kattegat Sound through Skagerrak
river is the constant.