Poems by Elizabeth Poreba
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February Thaw
by Elizabeth Poreba
Elizabeth lives on the 14th floor of an apartment building within the Lower Hudson watershed. Along this entire 153-mile reach, the Hudson is actually a tidal estuary rather than a river.
The brook is a white thread become glassy lava
reflecting light’s love for water, sentimental
in rainbows, harsh here, glinting
on a tumult, thin and colossal, an aria.
She could be in love or dying,
language unknown but feeling
familiar, a wave, a leaf
released to the rush,
snow to liquid, heart to mouth
all transparent —
this moment, her singing,
the waters swelling
and all melting headlong.
© Elizabeth Poreba