Wednesday, May 11, 2016

John Swain- A Poem


Big South Fork

Hawk call echoes shrill in the outcropping
above the gorge
where the open undammed river flows
through springtime slopes of bloodroot.

The quartz boulders move under me
like a wood bison rising in the changing light,
mirage of water, your wildflower crown,
the way I will remember.

The mountain collapses in reflection
on the rapid natural river as the pines blacken,
I watch the darkness ascend the hill,
the shadow climbs from earth.


John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky. Least Bittern Books published his second collection, Under the Mountain Born.
 
 

No comments:

Post a Comment