Meek and nearly sunless the stripe of river
when summer all but fills the backwaters
Oaks overcast a few fixed-focus fishermen
who cast below their piscine hopes with flies
catch sight of perch, barbel and bream
and dream kingfisher blue lightning
sudden thunder and rain beating
time to swan wings overhead
I walk the rhythm of a slow running river
the wayward way of glances bank to bank
watch where mirrored patches briefly peer
in shrouds of bramble, fern and balsam flower
note each beck and call of full fledged birds
and all but drown in vacant backwaters
Joining Paul’s Poetics as he takes us down river
PoetryPix 