Poems by David Marshall
August 31st, 2009 by James NorthcoteHere are two evocative poems by Kootenay Shambhala member David Marshall.
What She Told Me
The river’s voice
tongues these rocks round, or,
rock and water together
make this music. Changing
with weather, the seasons,
dry years and wet,
now a whisper, then
a bleached log roared
high above our heads.
Stories of flood years
told in a river voice.
A quiet engineer
who built on the only dry land
left at flood’s height,
an eleven-year toothache
of a neighbor who built
too cheap to bother.
Our gaze in the mornings
probed water like an ouzel
dipping stone fly breakfast
from quiet pools.
When you look deep,
river water ripples
like muscle
and the woods flow, too.
Rain water, snow melt,
drought in summer.
The river is an artery
pulsing out a mountain’s life.
Floods speak a mountain
stone tongue to the sea;
sea foam becomes salmon
in her answer.
The river tells one story
in many voices. Rocks
hold the riverbank for our house,
flood logs wait upstream.
Bank people rootless
as mayflies, water-dancers.
Not even the river
stays.


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