An Old Song

river runs under wind
takes rock to the sea

wind blows over river
lifts foam from the wave
silt moves through water
under my hand to the sea against the wind

to the place where hands meet
and lips touch underwater

~ Joanna M. Weston

Joanna M. Weston M.A. Has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published in anthologies and journals for twenty years. Has two middle-readers, ‘The Willow Tree Girl’ and ‘Those Blue Shoes’; also ‘A Summer Father’, poetry, published by Frontenac House of Calgary, all in print.

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