The River

Life is slow in these lonely mountains,
silence echoes the passing of time. 
An infant brook sings soothing music,
to sleeping children left in its care.

Old men plow their lonely fields, mumbling   
prayerful pleas at capricious gods.
Their wives tend to the fires of home, they
scour steep banks to gather broken wood.

Young men leave on that lonely journey,
and follow the stream down to the plains.
The lazy river tells them stories
of life on their mountains far away.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Smith Avatar
November 29, 2016 at 2:16 PM
A very beautiful poem Leileah...a somber tone but written so well
Kasperyan Avatar
November 29, 2016 at 2:57 PM
Thank you! It took on a life of its own, i think.
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