7: River

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     And So the Skin...
by Peter Cole

                    And so their pounded hearts
were worn—
                                                       like a badge
                              or talisman,
that canceled   
                    almost all their blindness—

                    creation's linkage depending
                                                       on a drive itself
                                                  derived from a kind of kindness
                                   or desperation, the sense that one's
inadequate,
                                                       at any rate

          the space for time—

          water has it, flowing   
          (even from a faucet...)
                                        and here the black swan glides across it—

                                   as the sunlight's suddenly on my back,
                              and now the skin along it's warmer,
Lord,   
                                                  which lets me walk by the river...