now the rain stops
in mid-afternoon
now the moon can’t
be seen but
i know she is singing
in the small burrow
she makes
in the bank of the river
now i walk through
the window
and across
the wet sky
to where dream faces
are drifting
without sound
above the dark river
and through
the sycamore trees
Like a walk along the river: restorative!
ReplyDeleteRaven,
ReplyDeleteYes! That walk we took restored and then wanted to be spoken about.