after D.H. Lawrence
Windows reveal the soft stopping
Hush of the little river below,
Little eyes poking out,
There’s no symbolism
In little eyes of the little river.
Blind like a family jumping
out of windows
the little river’s bends
hang from the bough.
It’s so heavy
No rock will ever
skip across its surface
indignant like an ocean
no stone will ever sink to its bottom.
Keep at an appropriate distance!
Little river will destroy you
It will make your fears succulent.
We will try to prevent it
the little river from hushing you
through the twilight
through the broken glass
on the pavement under our shoe.
It will be of no use
The little river will stay hushed
And keep bubbling like a soda
Its waters will rip.
But I am pessimistic,
It is no use.
I cannot fathom its depths
Or judge whether it is good or bad
Chipping away at its shores
The banks will spread water
to where we stand.
We will embrace
It like a sponge
Lapping at its greatest ascent
Our second body clean and soft.
What effect will little river’s
Encroaching waters descend upon us?
Us realists who discredit
Its sparkling leaves
Resenting its sharp sky screen.
Because of each others’ thoughts
We lapse to think less of you little river.
Still, you remain still
and quiet, in the stillness of unrest.