Untitled II
shadows on my brain
see the river run away from you
always running somewhere
always here
and so are you.
they panned for gold in that river
forever
and picked the slivers of silt-caked quick-cash with
clinging crab picking
fingers
klondike is a nice word
i like to say it sometimes.
It gets stuck
behind my teeth and under my tongue
and pops out
like an eavesdropper who sneezed.
©2008 Hillary Swanson. All rights reserved.