By The River

You had a gramophone
With a handle that you wound.
Do you remember?

On those warm nights
We danced with the music
And the moon and the stars.

Just you and me and a gramophone
Making music by the river.
Do you remember?

Image © 2019 Shona Silverman

Searching For Something

I am high up on a hillside.
My eyes see valleys, forests.
All green, so much green
And I am moving, never still.

The valleys pass, trees slip by.
I could be carried, walking,
Riding on a bicycle perhaps.
It does not feel like that.

Now I am in a forest
Following a man, dark
With a cloak, calf length.
Hooded, from a time gone by.

What is he looking for?
I see his back, hiding.
Perhaps he is hunting,
Searching for something.

He turns to me and sinks below.
I rise, look down upon him.
Under his hood, your eyes green
In another man’s face.

His mouth is open, drinking.
I am swallowed, spreading,
Filling his body and I know
That I am the brook.

Early In The Morning

What is it like
Early in the morning?
Just you and the birds
And the rising sun.

Wind stirs the cherry tree
And your memories.
Do you remember
The life that you once had?

Children played on the swing
In the rising sun.
Wind stirred their golden hair,
Caressed a lost world.

What is it like
Early in the morning?
Just you and the birds
And your memories.