Pearl River

by Dan Fitt-Palmer

a tiger can dissolve
into mist –
the river cannot abide
unscathed prey. you want
to span the whole thing
with looming towers,
yet i too slip
between sounds,
iron dagger at my hip.
that sparkling dust
that refuses your fingers like
scattered rice grains
in a bowl.
the dull clink of your
machine-struck coin;
a spread-out deck of cards – i look for patterns,
things to come.