Beckon
Speak to me in silence
or add color to your moat.
The Crocodiles glisten hungrily,
adorned, with a few laps more to go.
The rocks show a crystal promise.
Of your ebb and flow, water curtain
curtailed by still, a skin of
uncertainty below.
Your depths although bottomless
have a familiarity, something
homeward,
something that adventure rests on, that invites me
to that bridge over wet fertility
alongside a thick atmosphere blowing
tumbleweeds as a sideshow
over crossroads of gold.
Copyright © Jude Herrick | Year Posted 2021
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