Poem Hunter


Poem By Francis Santaquilani

on the riverbank

in mist

a herron holds steady

in the scullers' wake

shifting its head

slowly sideways

to follow their pace

off shore

on a wooden dock

a fisherman anticipates

the waves

reels in his line and pauses

to note the strain on

each passing face

above the river

from a train

an engineer waves

as the scullers bear down

blowing his whistle then

cranes his neck

to catch the race

down river

mist now swallows the race

the herron takes flight

the fisherman casts his line

the engineer looks ahead

the scullers' wake

gone without a trace.

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Comments (1)

Good strong writing...i think you have a fine poem here...great job!