What the river told me by Jane Skelton

‘Broomstick Orchestra’ by Jane Skelton

along the lake’s edge
our burnt limbs scratch at the sky
rapping in the wind −
gentle ratapan, a screek
a soft scrunching of paper
as it passed through us
we could only receive it −
dreaming of water
arms upraised in frozen dance
amid the whirlwind of fire
our spectral voices
sing the conflagration
mimic the crackling
as the wind brings the burnt reek
the acrid recall of pain
waves unburied our song
our creaking cacophony
roots deep in midden
sand falls from shell, bone, graveyards
old feasts uncovered, old fires
fishing boats glide past
seabirds, on indifferent trails
we cry from the dunes
our terrible scribble is
crazing the ruffled water
the wash slaps our dune
our every wounding, a sound
the lake whispers back
its silky repetition
new growth creeps forward
our song is nearly over
twine us in green strength