Dawn Potter: Epithalamion for Grendel

Cordgrass slashes rents into the wind, 

but I am waiting for my lover at the river. 

Close the floodgates: the tide is high 

and the one I love is mud and reeds, 

.

yet I am waiting for my lover at the river.

He strides into storms, he wades into pools of silt,

for the one I love is mud and reeds

and my hands long to cup his jagged face.

.

He strides into storms, he wades into pools of silt.

A scatter of fishes gathers in his wake. 

My hands long to cup his jagged face 

as herons bow to him in the saltmarsh,

.

as a scatter of fishes gathers in his wake.

Close the floodgates. The tide is high. 

Herons, bow to him in the saltmarsh.

Cordgrass, slash rents into the wind.

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Copyright 2019 Dawn Potter