Thought Upon Crossing the Iowa River by Bridge and Observing the Play of Light on the Glassy Water as it Poured over the Lock

liquefaction

****

(Cliff's Note: This one-word poem refers to Robert Herrick's poem Upon Julia's Clothes, written in 1648.)

if i tried to tell you
what i saw
in the twilight:

pylons in the river
massy
mottled
upholding rusted rail tracks
water dancing
then diffusing
continuing
content

it would be no use

words are not the things they describe
words have no mass
words are no pylons

i am the river
that is itself

an unexpected ray
grazed my cheek

i am the squirrel
i saw today
running across the road
too slow
oncoming cars

I love Kristi!

The following conversation took place on facebook today:

Edward Jones
"An actor can really weep while feeling nothing yet all my tears / congeal before they fall to form small paper boats because a ship / capsized inside me." -- from The Muse's Marginal Notes, by Hagar Peeters

Kristi Cartwright Hurd
Well I know that's a lie. If he was crying paper boats wouldn't they be all soggy and crap? They wouldn't even look like boats, more like spit balls.

Edward Jones
Kristi, you are the earth to my sky, the pin to my balloon. Half the fun of putting up quotes on facebook is awaiting your response!

a sandaled foot
in the coffee house
transports my mind
to old Alexandria

sand
sandal
foot
sky

crisp layers of desire