Friday, June 18, 2010

EARTH ~







WHAT I HEAR




This river water is

The warm breath of

Her whisper, what I hear —

The brown and white flurry

Of her thin clothing

The sweat of handwork

That musses the long

Blonde hair — dirt across

The forehead, may I wash

It off? thicken my hands

In that hair, kiss what I love

Away from our work and bathing

Part whisper and part water









WALKING FROM TOWN BETWEEN
MIDNIGHT AND 4 A.M.




I must have carried out
Every peeper in this valley


Home with me, 13 miles
Trees shiver in light rain


The moon following the
Fences following


A hillside of fog lies down
Generously in an apple orchard


Here is where a few sheep
Suddenly break into a run


A horse pounds the night
Meeting you at barbed wire


What is the sound between us
It is water that has brought me back











VISITORS



The river for weeks is low

Visitors arrive

Call it a creek

We know better

Say nothing



Next month in a downpour

Bridges wash out

Trees go down

Days of mud

No one visits




from Where Rivers Meet, Bob Arnold
photos © susan arnold, bob arnold