Rope Walk

Green is not word

enough to satisfy

the tongue;

sward, river, fleuve,

willow: seismic

tones splashed

like

the beginning

of time.

Time

rustles by

you & I

battling

to exist

in this.

Ducks take

flight

& the dog

plunges in

forgetting:

I’m forgetting

moving through

quixotic entity.

Fluorescent scum

scours water tension

tourists trudge

& the willow’s

sing of ancient

kings

troubadours

& lady’s  sleeves

that moment when

all of this

beckoned.