C.E. Chaffin, _San Lorenzo River

.................................
San Lorenzo River
.................................

The river puts a hand behind its back
and pushes to the ocean,
scooping a burrow out
from the soft banks
with claws of borrowed gravel,
seeking the easiest shape.

Rising from bottom sands,
a black pyramid of rock
disturbs whatever the sun
drew in gold crayons underwater.
Parallelograms dissolve,
fishnet shadows unravel in the turbulence
that soon smoothes itself
to clear lacquer laminae,
terraces of water edged in foam

Waterfall thunder,
gnashing of rapids,
burblings, water chatter,
hiss, trickle and lap:
The river has a thousand voices.
but only one throat
always open to the sky,
unable to swallow
its gift to the sea, itself.

.................................
C.E. Chaffin
.................................

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