the Hudson has a magnet smell      
            dark water     railroad track    
                        spongy grass
            rocks scattered     wrappers tossed

the Hudson has a railroad depot
            abandoned    revived
                        a party  for
            a cousin turning eighty

the freight trains go by
            a long chain clanging
                        guests turn    not hearing
            each other   the roar subsides

stranger beside me
            remembers  Johnny Mathis
                        and I do yes     Chances Are
            didn’t sex send sparks

we compare     he saw Miles at a dive
            I saw Ahmad Jamal    come what may
                        his Poinsiana   I’ll learn
            to love forever   

he loves certain lyrics
            a guide on how to live
                        four years
            since his wife died

he leaves     keeps returning
            his pressing need 
                        for the forgotten prelude
            to Hello Young Lovers

and then he has it
            when the earth smelled of summer
                        and the river
            and the sky was streaked with white

we sing            beyond us
            the huge barge of trash
                        pushed by a small tugboat
            navigates the Hudson

– Holly Guran

Author’s Note: The Hudson River that flowed below my childhood home, the high school I attended, and my close relatives’ town is always a force in my work. Often, our family members are born or die not far from the Hudson’s banks. For the presence of this wide river in much of my life, I am grateful.