top of page

Watching the River

A poem by Loretta Strharsky

I could sit quiet on the river’s bank to watch the performance unfold. The river will flow sluggishly before the winter snows melt to invigorate its travels. It will stretch for some small cottonwood branches along the way inviting leftover leaves from autumn’s display to join the journey. There will be no pause as slowly, without hesitation, the river will continue on. So... I shall find my warm jacket fill my thermos and head toward the river for the repeating performance. 01/16/2023


bottom of page