Sport 21: Spring 1998
Glenn Colquhoun — The other side of a river
Glenn Colquhoun
The other side of a river
We live on either side of a river.
She sits in the day beneath the sun.
It seems to orbit her.
Her feet are grass soft.
At night I lie on the ground.
I am shivered by the stars.
My eyes are moon round.
Some days she spins in long grass.
Her hands stretch outwards.
Her hair is blown. She is a small storm.
Some days I stand very still.
The world breaks open.
The sky shakes her hips in front of me.
All the shades of green dance and I am flattered.
Sometimes I think she speaks to me.
Before I have heard the words fall into the water
and curl away in small pools.
When I try to talk there is so much to say
it sticks in one long sentence which catches
in the wind and blows away.
She shades her eyes from the sky as if she is looking.
When she swims I place my feet in the water.
My arms float like small branches.
Sometimes I think she will come to me.
At night the moon makes a bridge on the water.
Sometimes I think I will go to her.
When the wind blows I lean
on the edge of the shore like a bird
with my arms out.
We live on either side of a river.