A River I Knew

Thick rope of a river,
the Hudson wrapped our lives
like a long, loose lasso.
Not a simple flow
she was weather,
mood and mood swing:
her brows could furrow, eyes darken,
wide concrete lips
spit high/low tides
loosening the pylons of broken-tooth
Jersey City piers.
Her tidal indecisions
rattled the steel planks
of our bridge.
My dream was to raft the Hudson,
grab her hand where she breaks
from Lake Champlain
and like two young daughters
leaving home,

Published in Women's Review of Books

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