Feels like a poem day

 Meander 

 
There are weirs and cairns and swale; slough,
marsh, and tule; sinuosity and the alluvial fan.
Language that the biologists and technical planners
roll off their tongues, the poetry of restoration and design.
 
Tundra swans have forgiven intrusion, returned
to the pewter river. They ruffle their wings once and glide
toward the bend. The engineer is discussing the level
of grade needed to ease the cut, what debris
can be used as filler. They’ve missed the otter that has slipped
back into the water, his slick head an errant bubble,
and the coyote pup crossing the levee
a frog dangling from its happy mouth.

~~M.E. Hope

Publisher:  Verseweavers: The Oregon Poetry Association Anthology of Prize-winning Poems, Number 16, 2011