A river scene
July 20, 2008
The blue night, now bruised black, lies warm and still against the sand. The white moon is radiant; full, save a crescent abrasion grinding on its northeast perimeter. Its light casts a million glowing dice down to the river, where they wink and dance on its broken surface, gambling the night away careless, knowing they'll win it all back in time.
The moon rains thin crisp white on everything. I look at her, and then look down, overwhelmed, and plunge my feet into the sand. I think that the lights across the way are boats, but they are buildings on the opposite shore. It has been a long time since I've seen this river. A falling star careens to the earth brilliant, but I look too late and miss it.
I wrap an arm around her silver middle and say something meaningless into the wind, who is gracious enough to wash my words away. Below this skin, I am boiling. In awe, in fear, in joy, in beauty and anxiety. This is a vast universe. These are complicated times, and we are delicate people. I settle my weight onto my back and elbow, wrapping another arm around her, trying to taste the peace that will be ours one day, trickling quietly down from the future.
Tags for this piece: creative love river future