Were they always a metaphor
for depression?

The green women
living always in the
ice-sluggish river,
waiting with thorn
teeth for those who
don't know better than
to approach their world?

Postpartum mothers who
pull the children back
into the quiet womb?

Every river seems
to have one:
Jenny Greenteeth,
Peg Powler,
Nelly Longarms.

Step out of the water, Jenny -
shake off the cold, cut your
hair, your nails. Toast some
cheese and bread, drink cider.
I won't ask you to smile,
or promise to save you,
but maybe just sitting
on the bench is enough
to keep your feet dry.