River Song

Those red feathers—crimson?

Scarlet? flashing the sky behind you, above your shadow calling to me,

swooping your thermal glide,

here over the river, where heat continues to rise.

Do my fins catch sun? silver, blue, and gold

I’m told water spends light differently, feel it filter-dance, dappling without

the green of leaves, fronds of gold splayed on shoals barely beneath

the surface. Ripples and currents deceiving the eye with sunsparkles

while stillness belies, forms the sound stagnation.

The depths have wonders and motion the glittering

surface cannot comprehend, ecosystems:

animal

vegetable

mineral.

flourishes of nourishment

decay

Time itself lurks and eddies

unchanged

by tricks of light.

The cypress rise from the deep, roots

emerging as knees where fish swim

and hawks light

emerald crowns, resting wings

bodies keeping feathery shadows

warm, devouring flesh

slaking thirst

breathing green air,

daring the sky

to learn how to swim.