river storks

river storks

the river caresses the riverbank;
playfully teases the stones.

it grows in the spring time;
it moistens your bones.

it glistens in the morning sun;
and is always either black or blue.

but no matter how well it's flowing;
it pushes outwards like a screw.

so what happens when the river floods;
when the river forks,
when the river dries;
when the river storks

bring their babies to other places;
cause big smiles on other faces.

what about the fish that used to call this place home?
what about the wish that has written this poem?

- Riccardo Lo Monaco