Premonition At the River
Where a rustic bridge once crossed from my hometown in Iowa
over to Illinois,
I used to go and play at a spot
where children’s feet ran helter skelter through sand.
It was long, so long ago.
In summer’s dusk, I held on to one of the park’s swings.
With feet pumping, I lifted into the air;
it was as if I almost flew above the water.
The Mississippi River had become a long grey ribbon
beneath the darkening sky.
What strange gloom flowed over me
while all of those around me were so happy?
I sit here in this park fifty-some years later,
and it dawns on me -
My childhood foreboding was a premonition
of the very way I’m feeling
right here and now.
for Mark Toney's
2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 27 Poetry Contest
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