Under the River
Undee the river of the world, the world.
And beneath that palace, a palace -- just the same.
From the quarry ledge, boys dive
over and over into blue sky:
it always greets them the same,
laughter, then towels, then going home with watery ears.
It sings to them then for hours, hushing the rest --
family, dinnerware, tires spinning by, all stilled.
Open-winged for those moments between world and world,
the rooms leading one to the next,
each linoleum floor marble-cool,
the ceilings stencilled with waterlilies, stars.
Found In Volume 17, No. 04
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