.
Rivers run
they do not walk
they crest a dam
and do not talk
while smoothing rocks
and rocking banks
in curving stones
and filling lakes
with bubbled lights
and gillied fishes
feeding wells
and granting wishes
silver curved
pastoral scenes
in flows of bold
through forest greens
and wearing blue
lent from the sky
where falling water
dragons fly
in grassy hair
and clover pops,
through sunny glare
and mossy tops
the
river
knows
its way.
.
.
© 2012, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(a re-post)
Seasonings 