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 Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose  

BY RUNNING WATER


Say you’re this stream bed

framed by green willows

luscious with mud and trout fry;

channeling current through eelgrass,

tendrils, clusters of waterbug eggs.


Dream you’re the river

accepting this onrush

each blink each minute

open as love’s vast capacity.

One body pouring towards ocean,


weaving blue murmurs

from flint cliffs to sandbars,

flashing your twined

ceaseless motion; your silver-coin

flickers of hope.





A River Sings, __ October 2022