Along the Susquehanna
Every day they arrive and by dusk they are gone
Rain on the river brings the eagle and the white heron
They know that brooks can run dry
but this is a river
The eagle grips the branches of an old pine
Its yellow eyes pierce the fog
Rain without sound makes the river shiver
The white heron holds its glorious posture on a rock
I watch and as their reflections shimmer in the old river
I listen
Maria Marrero was nurtured on pablum and poetry by her mother who sang her “las
Nanas”, little verses in Spanish. She is a lover of poetry and a lover of
words in both Spanish and English. She has taught writing for over 30
years, and now that she’s retired she finally has the time to write
poetry every day.
Amethyst Review 