River Stories

You said if the river carries more than mud 

you’ve yet to see it, but I saw a tern take an eel, 

and in the challenge of slower beaks drop it.

And I know that eel wriggles it’s Sargasso desperate dance

into banks where mudlarks take their chance

hoping for storied relics;

the musket ball with tooth attached,

the jawbone of a bronze age girl 

whose mission for mussels ended in a muddy trip

and countless rings thrown in anger 

or lost from fasting fingers 

when the boatman dropped an oar

This river carries more than mud, 
and hides a world besides

Stories folded in the filthy loam 
and sent on a spring tide home.