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The Sudbury River lies peaceful as a plate
tonight, glazed by the sun, sunset rays
glinting off its western rim, earth and
water working together without
complaint, giving and taking, sometimes
the earth holds back, sometimes the river
floods, but no explosions as on the London
subway, hey, no subway, just a quarrel
between two red-wing blackbirds
that lasted only a second or two, not
the ceaseless buzzing between
civilizations, here even the invasion
of purple loosestrife is forgiven,
for Nature holds no grudges,
no bombs, no flying flesh, only
rose-tinted light washing over a foreign
sky, me floating down the river, in a world
which knows nothing of Moslems, Jews, Christians,
just the meandering of a stream, the ripple of
water, just the heron, the muskrats and
swallows all settling in for the night.
On the Sudbury River, 8:30 pm
July 23, 2005