#riverpoem
A slow skull, but steady
as four pull by in unison,
the river readies me for another day
with current confidences
quietly spoken
In comparison, the busy chat
of small brown birds seems rude,
but cheek and charm
forgive a lot
if not all
It’s to the bees I’ll look
for industry this Sunday,
though if their lead will be followed
is yet to be decided
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 5:05 AM UTC
Skimming and scanning
the grammar of the riverbank’s
brown leaf, new shoot syntax
a bold type wren,
like the old bouncing ball of singalongs,
led my eye to read the waterline
and yet I still couldn’t discern
if smiles or tears were written
while the branch tips still scribed
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 9:21 AM UTC