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Thursday, September 07, 2017

The Sunday Poet: Marguerite Bovard

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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