by Laurie Beth

Created on: September 08, 2008

Hudson Line

Over the heads of the passengers
Reading the paper
I can see the river

Kneeling, neck stretched to the clouds
I am pulled off the seat by a conscientious parent
Yet, not before I saw the Hudson for myself

I feel the sun is grateful to have the river
For a mirror
Such a venue in which to dance
And I try to watch again

Don't do that. You'll fall.
Fall into the river
Where the silver, glistening light
Would teach me how to swim

The old man behind us
Is amused by my antics
To my father's relief
She's precocious.

He is right
I am special
And I know the river
For myself.

Learn more about this author, Laurie Beth.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.