-The River-

Morning in winter.

Then the greying

Darkens southward as it goes
From below

The hill of the city.

The river

Drives as an arm of the sea

By the turn of the Earth

By the Moon pulling it

By things which are measured

By things which are not — then drops

To the ocean's mouth

Which inhales to claim it.

I hadn't seen the river as brethren;  the blood-

Related as now I do.

The water's color is perceived

From particle absorption

And reflection of atmosphere

Greying from sediment the silt

Kicks-up from its bed.

Testimonials are read

From the clinging tenements written
In an indelible text.

The river flows before them,

From the foot of the hillside where

Before my time the railroad tracks were laid

Running north to south from here to Providence.