Ken's Poetry

Christchurch Riverside

On the river’s
sliding surface
clouds skim
trees dance
flowers flutter
through broken sun,
all patched and pooled
like brush marks
on a Monet scene.

Through this screen
glide leaf and twig
an empty can
a lazy duck
weaving a spell
across the water’s film.

Down below
where all is calm
weeds trail
in silken harmony
stones stream
with smothering silt
a dead old log
slowly turns to stone.

Three layers
in one splash of eye.