To a River, From the Window of Flight 1914

[media-credit name=”Credit: NASA” link=”https://www.nasa.gov/images/content/670105main_meandering_mississippi.jpg” nofollow=1 align=”alignnone” width=”500″]670105main_meandering_mississippi[/media-credit]

Nothing relaxes like a river,
I learn up in the sky.
We parallel you, silver sliver,
as the night grows nigh.
Wander, meander —
never pander.
Slant supply, and
then dogleg back—
so effortless, doing
as you please.
Make me ponder
graceful ease.
You fatten and thin
as you slide beside us,
playful in a sleek
and serious way.
You split in two —
an island born between —
and then merge back to one.
Your silver sword gets lost
as the light gets less.
You now look lake-like,
dappled with islands; but
I have to strain to see.
Now you’re gone.
I realize
I never asked
your name.