I’m standing knee deep in this deafening river.
Down in the canyon, my voice echoes back to me.
Flooded with pleasure and pain, I shiver.
Ripples are flashing sun and silver,
cutting through mountains down to the sea.
I’m standing knee deep in this deafening river.
Sun-warmed and earthy, sagebrush and juniper
are spinning my senses, branching to memory.
Flooded with pleasure and pain, I shiver.
Striking greens, the Aspen leaves quiver.
Birches bleed—black gashes on every tree.
I’m standing knee deep in this deafening river.
Slick stone, unsteady, I shouldn’t linger.
Cool and persistent, the wind nudges me.
Flooded with pleasure and pain, I shiver.
I throw fistfuls of ashes down into the water.
Watching as you disappear is ecstasy.
Standing knee deep in this deafening river,
flooded with pleasure and pain, I shiver.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 25, Issue 4.
Autumn Newman is a disabled poet living in California. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and her poems have appeared most recently in The Orchards Poetry Journal, Able Muse, Cider Press Review: Best Of, and more are forthcoming in Pratik: A Magazine of Contemporary Writing and Rise Up Review.
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