Friday, May 3, 2013


I drift with the swift drift the river,
Even as I stand on the shore,
Coming and going,
Part of and apart,
Inside and out,
A confusing mix of rip tides
That draw me in
My fingers clinging
To the satin lace of fox tails
I know can’t secure me
Or keep me from falling in,
Nor can my feet be as firm as roots
Aching to dig deep into ground
I know won’t hold me
Needing something to hold onto
And something to hold on to me,
reading the reeds
As I did as a kid
Dreams filling the seams
With lacy faces of fancy ladies
Uprising out of the mists,
Whose songs draw me in and
Draw out of me
As I search out that face
In that space
With the ache
That face
Is looking back
And somehow,
Still connected,
Even as the river flows
Even as time goes,
Even as I know
I’ll hang on here
As long
As I have to,
Clinging to the reeds
And this river.

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