Red egret, Estero Beach, Florida

Poem of the Moment

Like a River Flows

I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding.

– “Fluent” Conamara Blues: Poems by John O’Donohue

What a river wants
is to be wet and held.
With each splash of rain
the stream restocks
swells and clarifies
maybe even forgives
what has passed before.
Just as moments flow
through memory’s sieve,
I would love to live.

In the morning light
there is so much to be seen.
Squirrels sprint through grape vines.
Chickadees swoop and dive.
Two sun sugar tomatoes ripen.
Another two decompose.
I eat three sugar snaps
and yank a handful of weeds.
Grazing the garden, time slows
like a river flows.

I have almost always
lived by a river.
In this place, probably
my last, behind our house
a river steadily glides
mostly disguised
by ferns and trees.
Everyday I walk past
all that a river implies
carried by the surprise

of a cormorant on a log
drying its wings
a mallard sleeping
a beaver heading upstream
a salmon leaping, too often
with a dread of beholding
the sixth extinction
evolving now beyond
our controlling
of its own unfolding.

, (Sunday, 16 August, 2015)

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selfie at Elsie's Diner

Best known as a “nature poet with a twist,” Liz has planted garlic to form words of prayer, inscribed words on ornamental gourds as catalysts for poems and grew punctuation marks in her hay field. Now Liz’s focus is docu-video poems about water and the creatures that depend upon it.

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