By Sarah Das Gupta
--
water polishes refines
reduces to the essence
the hand grasps a polished stone
fine blue veins stretch
across the smooth surface
a drowned coin gleams
re-baptised in sand and water
its value trebled by
the river’s constant flow.
In the dark shallows
leaves are water-logged
soon skeletons absorbed
in primeval mud
the alpha and omega
a log skinned by the current
sheds its green scales
sinks till only a hunch backed
savaged spine
threatens summer skies
patiently the water wears
the rocks
a century or two
may break the strongest will
the green hair of
long dead girls
trails in the river’s flow
bones rise and fall
on the gritty bed
not transformed
to twisted coral
nor to translucent pearls
just white bones
worn wearily away
part of the slime
drifting slowly
seawards
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