The river stretches past my
bedroom window like a body
relaxing in the crevice between
my backyard and the backyards
across from us. I want to touch it,
talk to it, be held and
nourished by it. It is an
indifferent river, haunted by the
ghosts of all the little children who have
stepped unacknowledged from its
womb, languished in its glittering
heart, plucked from its belly other
anonymous creatures.
It is indifferent to everything but
the changing tide, the change of
seasons. It will always embrace
change and reject
sentiment. It does not take the
children in, it makes them want.

Amy Glavasich lives in New York City, where she is the editor and co-founder of The Notion.
She can be emailed at amyg@gumballpoetry.com

Want to see what reviews look like? Click here
Like this poem? Send this link to a friend