The River

A deep river flows by the mage’s tower.
The water, gray, green and yearning for the sea,
Gropes at the foundations with swirling fingers.
Stone is patient.
The mage’s woman dips her bucket into the course;
She is weeping again.
The river catches her tears and knows
Water is more patient than stone.
Frogs call the rain;
The tide, though distant, hears all water.
The moon whispers it.
Night pours down from an unseen shroud,
Lifting the river above the reeds
To the tower stones, cold as the mage’s heart.
The river does not respond to words, gestures
Or sigils.
It cradles the woman’s boat
Like a womb,
Rising, falling, spinning her away
From the echoes of the tower’s fall.

“The River” was originally published in Volume 9, Issue 4 of Tales of the Talisman. This magazine features fine writers and artists of fantasy, science fiction, and horror. Check it out.