Pretty

There’s something striking

in straight lines merged with bendy —

Tree limbs framed in window panes,

Images of houses

ruffled in the river’s ripples

I came here along the braided curves —

River, bike trail, highway rising 

into overpasses, thinking

“Everything about today is pretty”

For I also thought so earlier,

Watching the rolling arc of waves,

small and glistening on the glassy water,

curling to a small break

just before the curving shore,

almost too bright to bear

We bounced small rocks off driftwood,

We spoke of things arcane and lofty,

Didn’t need to seek 

the places we might disagree

(so I didn’t mention watching

dragon-headed clouds with intelligent eyes

drifting in brilliant blue

framed by my arm crooked over my face

to block eye-searing sun.)

©Wendy Mulhern

June 16, 2014