By Philip Kuepper
A river of blades appeared the river,
blades being sharpened by the wind,
a nor’easter gnashing at the water,
causing it cut
the docks, cut the shores,
thick with reeds, green,
sanguine, amber, gold,
touched autumnal, now that October
had spilled paint everywhere.
Tinged blue, the bladed river
was splattered white with overcast sky,
sky the blades shredded like coconut,
a snow of coconut. The wind would not let up,
and rippled the river over the roads.
Dories bumped against piers where laid
shells rowers had had to abandon
ideas of taking out on the river.
Only nothing penetrated the overcast sky.
The nor’easter had stalled offshore,
to play the reeds
like an organ’s pipes.
(11 October 2019)