Down by the river, PT III

Down by the river
three boys barefoot
looking for fish, frogs,
and yabbie claws

We marvel at the shallows,
green and weedy,
banks covered with reeds
willows flowing with leaves
poplars tall and shimmering,

the littlest boy is
crouching on a rock
watching water bugs
he sees me watching him
and grins,

It’s a mud pie heaven
a place to sit
watch rocks sink,
forgotten fence posts
stick up like rusty thumbs
dragonflies land on them
we notice tiny blue moths,
flies and native bees.

Three boys rivering,
above them galahs flying,
their mother revelling
in watery reflection, thinking,
we seem to come on
the days we most need it.