Embrace by Janie StapletonPoecology
Issue 5

Lia Greenwell


I used to sit by the river in my hometown
and watch the water pass through

an old TV, cascade over a fax machine:
things pushed from the bridge above.

Their screens had gone green with algae.
An emerald duck drifted by,

punctuating the current. I watched
the bridge divide the water

and let it come together like a flock
of birds. If I knew what was to happen,

could I have let the river work
through me? The future hooked

to the tail feather of the mallard,
just past the bridge, out of sight.