My River
My River
My river flows long into the night
She lingers in valleys bereft of yesterdays
Courses through deserts of solitude
Forsaken by tomorrows
She cascades over landscapes
Of mountainous sorrows
Shadowy glades where trees hiss overhead
Eddies of tears lapping gently
At her mossy shores
My river flows deep into the night
Moonlit currents of longing
Whirling dreams of pleasures past
Caught in swirls of weed, silken green
Thoughts unravelling, churning, restless
She flows to greet the rosy dawn.
Copyright © Sheila Sacks | Year Posted 2016
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