The River King

Spotted back, it swims upon the waves,
the rushes of brisk blue water, around the rocks,
bubbles and foam, he rests where it ripples,
and sips duns within the surface film.

Gills, they perk, in the velocity of the run,
where the river flows quickest, breathing each breath
of bubbles, picking piles of Mayfly and kin
where they dump into the pool, a picnic in the dusk,
the setting of the sun, and the ending of the day.

A bluish cheek, forest green beak, a wide mouth
of sharpened teeth, silver scale stripe
golden brown belly, the fins, the river it rides,
suspended in the current, and still it stays steady.

By Austin Green

2 thoughts on “The River King

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