Vernal Equinox
Mary Chatfield

Unbound from winter
swollen with the melt
the river black reflective
moves imperceptibly eastward.
On the boathouse ramp
the crews sit
clumped waiting
dull-colored like autumn’s leavings
in the thin March sun.

From feeding somewhere deep
out of the river’s body
slides a swan
its sibilant shape
so unforeseen
so stark
you cry out
‘There’s a swan on the river,’
and someone answers
‘That’s a good sign.’

Shorts by Jonathan Ullyot
The Movie by Charles Simic
Magnificent Obsession by Stan Badgett
This Story by David Koehn
To a Literary Friend by Constantine Contogenis
Vernal Equinox by Mary Chatfield

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