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| Marguerite Bouvard |
Marguerite Guzman Bouvard was born in Trieste Italy. She is a former professor of Political Science and poetry workshops, and the author of 20 books in the fields of politics, women's rights, human rights, grief, illness and spirituality.
MELT WATER
Waterfalls echo, their eddies
scoring the edges of streams with currents like tines, rushing faster than
wind, sending up curls, as a script from the Qur’an, broad swaths taking over
the gravel, widening its path, carrying light on its skin, one side of the wash
twirling like dervishes around a bed of stones, on the other side, strands of
light vibrate. It drips from the mountainside with the notes of a piccolo, its
sheen illuminating the wall of bare rock, and from the green stalks projecting
out of scree, melody of the oboe. Water music strikes the air louder than the
jangling of cowbells on the upper meadows. In spring, it reclaims the earth,
reminding us that we too have come from its depths like the First Peoples who
climbed out of fire and water to enter this world.
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