There’s something striking
in straight lines merged with bendy —
Tree limbs framed in window panes,
Images of houses
ruffled in the river’s ripples

I came here along the braided curves —
River, bike trail, highway rising
into overpasses, thinking
“Everything about today is pretty”

For I also thought so earlier,
Watching the rolling arc of waves,
small and glistening on the glassy water,
curling to a small break
just before the curving shore,
almost too bright to bear

We bounced small rocks off driftwood,
We spoke of things arcane and lofty,
Didn’t need to seek
the places we might disagree

(so I didn’t mention watching
dragon-headed clouds with intelligent eyes
drifting in brilliant blue
framed by my arm crooked over my face
to block eye-searing sun.)

©Wendy Mulhern
June 16, 2014