RAIN OR RIVER:

East River,

First of spring,

Vested.

Craggy rocks

Vineyard sun, setting.

Queensborough Eclipse.

Rasping Red-Tug’s

Downstream dominance.

Floating above the eff D arr,

Hands refreshed,

Stiff.

Climbing iron to perch,

Lighthouse level.

A strange beauty this man,

With his gardens and

Gracfull Mansion.

Places of play,

Grand arches and spaces of quiet.

Shrieking offspring,

Huff-puffing herdsmen of another time,

Haggard yuppies sweating misspent middle age.

I am hungry but haven’t shaken,

The cold and sleepless.

The River or the rain.
©DANIEL MORTON 2011