The River
The river runs its winding course
along an ageless bank I stand
ceaselessly brewing silty soup
a recipe of dirt and sand….
I played in youth along these shores
And swam its raging watercourse
Wearing makeshift suits, swimming nude,
floating its breadth on inner tubes….
Alas! Those days are nevermore.
… As I mused my lost childhood years
Seeing this eternal river
from a timeless riverbank
it’s hard to fathom life’s changes
until I saw my wrinkly hands.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
