River
Springing
from the earth,
spinning liquid threads,
a glinting silver rope,
the stream is formed,
flinging downhill
to tumble over stones.
Gathering into pools
where willows drowse,
dancing pooh-sticks
under flimsy spans
the river frolics
in innocent youth.
Far ahead lie
the crazy leaps over cliffs,
cascading down rocks
to a foaming basin.
Undreamed of
the tumult of irate
clashes with the tempest:
the river in spate,
bearing away trees,
tearing down bridges,
crashing through houses.
Farther still
the salty fingerings
of tidal counter-current,
the expansion of the delta
until the river loses
sight of either bank,
finally enters and becomes the sea.
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