Monday Poem


overlooking a river rife with history that
runs along the bottom of an ancient gorge
between two mountains autumn rusts.
in yellows, russets, remnant greens,
drapes of leaves cascade down their opposing slopes
liquid as runoff, colors sluiced into the wide wet rush
of that streaming source of being
boiling white over rocks tumbling while
along its banks caught, serenely eddying in time cycles
intent …. dead set ….  falling moving somewhere

Jim Culleny, 11/7/21
Photo by S. Abbas Raza