When The Leavy Breaks
The River kept its Promise —
Until the sudden Hour —
A Crest — of secret Thunder —
Betrayed its guarded Power —
The Bank — became a river —
The Meadow — lost its Floor —
And I — within the Current —
Could cling to Land — no more —
The Water clasped me — closer —
Than any Human Arm —
It whispered Flood’s Forever —
Yet strangely lent me Calm —
To yield — became my Shelter —
To drown — became my Breath —
Inside the Warm Abundance —
Three wide and six feet down --
I learned the Shape of Death.
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