South River Portrait
Two birds disappear into the thicket embarrassed at the sight of the water making love to the shoreline. Dusk on the beach is a perfect time for this lovemaking when the sky becomes blotched with purple daubs of blush and the sun hangs like a bronzed orange suspended by the weight of the horizon. In the distance, two golden retrievers splash and scatter flecks of bleached sand into the atmosphere by the ancient dock: her splintered lattice work long savaged by the unceasing silent tides. Quiet rapidly descends upon the water as truant sailors hastily plow through the churn that threatens to become stillness. First the sailboats then the motorboats surreptitiously skate past, revealed by the grind of their engines as they downshift into port. Observing all that is motion and motionless, the night sky finally prevails on the beach, bathing it in blackness until the moon and stars unveil the river in new light and possibility.
Poem and Artwork by
Rob Levit
6/19/03
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