Late Janaury

Slow down river, you're moving too fast
I'm grateful
I see you still
through bare cross-hatchings
naked branches and boughs
stay still

As I see
your murky waters
ever-changing,

                        ever-changing
like the eyes of that Flaubertian heroine
muddied by the rain
or silver-plated
cracked up into white life rafts
and woefully black at
night

as I stare
in and on the surface
we are the same
still here
and always moving

you quail and quiver
dear trees, friends, love of mine
still, stay still
I am here.