The Rivers Like Veins
I had this dream,
I was lying down, hovering, feet first—
With my head up, floating down,
a white and blue rushing river.
I felt the intensity of the motion
I saw a hundred named tributaries
And a thousand unnamed ones.
I breathed the precipitous nature of fog.
I watched the clouds with their own currents.
The rocks kept the river from sinking,
A plant hovered over the dew
And it blocked out the sun.
The engineers saw the world a machine and not organic
They poked, prodded, dredged, and dammed it
They penciled and made sketched plans
They stenciled-- paid outstretched hands.
A rainforest once wet and dripping, dried out
The people denied the backwoods were in drought
The fog simmered and the sun scorched
An ember slipped and a tree torched.
The moss turned red and black
A glacier broke and cracked.