The Song of the River

Linda Geary

Linda Geary

From a distance
the river calls to me
Come! Slip your keel
into my steady flow
Follow my lead

Deep mysteries
lie within my reach
Secrets great & small
of man chasing boy
with line & hook

My silver angels
keep guard of rocks
on which you’d beach
Try to catch them or
they’ll catch you

I will not begrudge
your burgeoning nets
Once taken their breath
will return unharmed
my breath my voice

“Before I was born I was water.
I thought of this sitting on a blue
chair surrounded by pink, red, white
hollyhocks In the yard in front
of my green studio. There are conclusions
to be drawn but I can’t do it anymore.
Born man, child man, singing man,
dancing man, loving man, old man,
dying man. This is a round river
and we are her fish who become water.” ~ Jim Harrison


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to The Song of the River

  1. I’ve been saved by silver angels more times than I can count

    Liked by 1 person

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