The River Poem by Leon Gellert
The River
Rating: ★2.7
Swift with the dawn she rises, quick and cold,
Rattling the pebbles with her silver shoon,
Chasing a thousand fish of instant gold,
And racing into noon.
But in the night so tired at having tracked
Her great sea-lover to his sounding lair;
Down from the shoulders of her cataract,
She loosens all her hair.
Monday, April 5, 2010
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4/17/2024 1:39:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
