River

`Things, others, the gods, each have their voices to which we may listen.'
Don Idhe



Out of the river
He hears them
Above the voices
Of his wife and daughters
Fated
Out of the river
He hears them
Deep as a chant
Tangled in weeds
On the river bed
Out of the river
He hears them
A song of the future
Lies next to him
Drifting
Out of the river
He hears them
The tide emptying
His thoughts
Of resistance
Out of the river
He hears them
But is unable to say:
Old ones
I am listening.





(c) Louise Crisp. All rights reserved.
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The bottom half of an image of a flax frond.