we think of them as lazy
slow and peaceful
places of fishing and summer play
but a river...

(one)
the rivers edge
intoxicated by the night air
drunk with the silken touch of her
he walked slow through the old town streets
down to the rivers edge
thought to sit for a space at the calming sounds of
the rivers quiet song
he shut his eyes and pictured her face
thought about each and every soft thing bout her
and slipped into a sleep

the words were printed with legible care
you could sense the measured time taken
perfect each etched line on the paper
like they themselves were children
to be nurtured
and the phrases were trimmed
and crafted
cant you see that this is
the man you were born to be
wordsmith

he stirred in his sleep
deep in the night
the small boat he had fallen asleep on
now carried him silent and swift
miles down the wide old river
from her rich silent forests of the north
through her flatlands of crops
down to the mud of the delta

he dreams of her
telling him a story
with her voice soft and full of love
a story of a man on a boat drifting
down a long river
and of all the wonders that sleeping
man could not see
her story came to its end
as he slowly woke from his slumbers
on a calm sea
with no shore to the eyes furthest see

(two)
the morning light
is twisted up in the eye
the morning air is thick as thieves
as it tries to rob your strength
stagger down long the rivers edge
hear them coming on the dirt road
try and hide your fearful face
but its daylights dark delight
to leave you exposed for all to see

you wade into the rivers cold waters
feel it trying to pull your feet from under you
feel it tryin to pull you down to a hard place
from whence you shall find no return
fight to swim in the stained waters
tastes of metal
tastes like death
but you must flee this place
flee this open grave with your name carved

on the rivers far bank
perceive the tinge of a fast car
escape from this dark place of daylight
all you must do is make it to the shore
just a few feet more
till salvation
you hear them behind almost upon you
come to drag you back
to that soul killing prison
here in the midday sun things growin dim
vision growing faint
as you slip into the darkness beyond this world
they did not claim you
the river did