The River
A simple God made paradice.
So precious to behold.
Once clear blue and full of life
now dismal, gray and cold.
Sweeping through an empty forest
flows the lonely river.
Its banks a depot of trash deposits
sends my spine a quiver.
Still peaceful in the deathbed sence
I sit and watch astounded.
Peering through a chainlink fence
my memories recounted.
There were no signs that said "No Swimming"
or "Do Not Eat The Fish".
No soda cans or old yard trimmings.
It was full of kids.
Ducks would gather once a year
as they made their journeys south.
Squirrels foraged with no fear.
The water overflowed with Trout.
Though flayed of all its dignity
I still find much pleasure.
For in my minds imagery,
it will always be a treasure.
The Applethoughtrotten
Copyright © Mark Croson The Applethoughtrotten | Year Posted 2010
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