Charles Halsted Poet Free verse

The Bend In the River

Bend in the River 

My friend the squirrel sits on a tree branch, peers
though my window in late afternoon to be certain
I’m still alive. I’m preparing to start my journey 
down the river as it begins to round its final bend. 

Upstream, it still flows past our first house 
where I carried each of you in my womb more than 
sixty-five years ago. Later, I made sure that none
of us would starve from lack of eggs or milk 
from the chickens and goats we kept behind our house
when your Pa was away in World War II. 

Now you’re all here to take turns at the word games
I love, though now I lose more than I win. I’ve long 
forgiven your hurts as you have mine. You’ve all
come here to hold me close as my end draws near. 

I ask my elder son, “Am I one hundred yet?” 
“Five months to go,” he replies. “Good enough,” I say.
When I close my eyes, I’ll float down the river.
Once past its bend, I’ll enter the harbor and sea, become 
one with eternal waves crashing against the rocky shore.

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