.....Atchafalaya River Poem by elysabeth faslund

Grumbling, perverse river...slither straight on...
Brown, brown, sniveling river-crone.
Snatch up those drifting cypresses and hustle
Them haphazardly under bridge supports, to
Vanish into bayous even you have never
Watered...muddy river hag.

Rogue river-child, did you caper and cavort
With your trifles today? Did you haul that
Half-sunk hulk down? Down, down, so the
Perch can play? Have you crumbled that rusty
Barge? Searched that tug yet...drowned it to
Travel far away to memory...and fall apart,
Rotting?

Muttering russet river, you told the Sun who
You're going to meet, didn't you...vile shrew.
Maybe you wish to visit a brother, or sister.
Perhaps a great, great grandmother. Vied
And vying river...you should stay home and
Gurgle to the trees. Yes, old vixen, your cackle
Only proves the danger of greener pastures.

Rambling tart, do not open the door to a
Stranger. A stranger too powerful...strutting a
Vimish spirit. And potency. Stay home. Stay
In your bed...alone. Why do I still not trust you,
Capricious vamp?

Who comes to meet you...for you've changed...
Harlot. You are submissive, tranquil, today.
Knowing. You are still waiting for that stranger
To take you out of your ages-old home. In spite
Of bolted and steel-barred restraints.

What will you both take with you when you leave
To vanish...changing to something else...
Somewhere. And you will see us again...
Inconstant gypsy witch-river.