photo: patricia wellingham-jones
Reclining
Woman
by
Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Like
a river siren
washed
off her boulder,
spun
through white water,
flung
up on shore, she rests
against
the bridge abutment.
Her
legs stretch out on gravel,
weeds
bend over her torso,
arms
seem to droop at her side,
her
head lolls in sleep.
From
my deck across the stream
she’s
a reclining woman.
Up
close, flotsam and jetsam
from
last winter’s flood.
~
first published in Rattlesnake Review
