The River's Breath

The River's Breath
The river rests like frost settling,
ingesting silt dredged
from hills’ peaks to valley’s feet.
She naps, playing dead,
half asleep.

Slack water’s undercurrent
reveals jutting tidal flats,
the mottled sand bar like
a lizard’s back, or lines
of wisdom on her face.

The tide turns; she awakes,
casting off the warm
embrace of the sun,
racing to mingle waters
with foam-flecked waves.

Current shines in singing eddies,
a steady crescendo of brine
that feeds her thirst
from the estuaries' flow,
as the breeze grows
the river breathes out
life of stream and meadows.