A River Leads
Spanish Moss hangs over my face
a gentle caress
green filaments brush my hair.
The flat-bottomed boat
glides on a slow current
but it pushes me,
it urges - but to where?
Florida has a lot of water,
this stream is green,
a backwater making its own way
as it slides between marshy land.
Perhaps it will wind into
a Floridian suburban stream somewhere,
there will be blue swimming pools,
perhaps the odd plastic flamingo?
I hope there will still be
these enrobed Cypress trees,
some curtains of trailing moss
that will part
revealing new ways for this boat to go.
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