i
Two-backed, turned-
in-on-itself. A lip.
Duct. Clipped rushed
breaths over troughs
where dippers walk
– cinclus cinclus –
familiarity lost
in the song of name.
The twelve-digited
ii
weir a duodenum,
a conduit of rude
chyme. A film
on the surface.
Thick as a holly
leaf. The surface of
what? Whisper
it. The paper
or the celluloid,
iii
magpie images are
words, and words.
Somewhere
is a duplicate
of this river,
in three dimensions.
Bellows of lock-
gates. Rust of
water. Drip-
iv
drip of ducks.
In time faces
may be revealed,
but here in
the original,
the type that is
motionless.
Fated to be
static.
