Sunday, 3 March 2019

The River

by Maureen Teresa McCarthy

She’s gone now
Left, closed the door
Gently, but firmly
And it’s not as though
It was sudden or strange
Her leaving.

No, she’d let me know
Her time was coming
All those months
On the full moon
Rivers of deep rich red
The river ran dry.
The stream bed is beautiful.

The bones
Show clearly
And I can see the way
To the source.

* * * * *

Maureen Teresa McCarthy is a central New York native who moved to California, graduated from SF State and worked in publishing. She traveled in Europe and Mexico for two years, returned to the Finger Lakes, completed her MA at Syracuse. She taught Composition at various community colleges, raised two sons. She has published essays with Fairview and University of Michigan Press, has completed a civil war novel, and has always written poetry. Her poems have appeared in Comstock Review, Months to Years, Penwomen, and other journals.