Friday, July 23, 2010

River Run

Sometimes life is constrained in walls. Sometimes life opens up in wide meanders. Sometimes life takes place in a forest, a savannah, a swamp. I have been in the swamp. It is very hard to remember the original objectives when alligators are persistent distractions. Right now I am having a health problem that will not recede all the way to gone. It is not serious right now but it is not gone either. Last year near this time, I felt I was in a riverine canyon. It was good for poetry.

River Run

The walls have come in
tight to us and we are like
rapids running fast
over a rocky
bed, so many of us but
not all, no not all.

There is erosion
and we don't know how weakened
walls still contain us
or if, as they fall
will they dam us up, stop us
or not. Will we spill,
continue down stream?

June 19, 2009 9:42 AM

4 comments:

  1. we will spill
    the walls will fall away
    there's light and heat
    the water calmer now
    gurgling through stones and sand
    we splash into the desert
    and where we kiss
    a desert rose will bloom

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  2. It's been a long while, but you've drawn me back. And I'm glad, because as always, I love the words you put together and what they do so harmoniously. (And is that a Finnegan's Wake nod in the title?)

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  3. My walls are membrane thin, these days. Surprising to me though, it's anger and not weeping that's leaking out. Oh well, whatever it is, hopefully some of it will spill into poetry.

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  4. Thank you, Jozien. A desert rose indeed.

    Joseph. I don't understand but long ago came to accept the ebbs and flows of my life. I get so sure that what is happening now is going to last indefinitely. Then one thing leads to another and the inner fire goes out. I may have made a vow, like I did with "two poems a day". Now I am lucky to get a poem a week. I was regular in my visits to several blogs, yours among them. Now I am lucky to find the energy to visit one or two a day even in a reader. And more. I notice that most of the people I did visit hardly post anymore and they were daily too. I see that regular bloggers move on in cycles to keep up with the blogging life. People come and go.

    Rachel, I guess you give the people you live with some fun :) I love you just as you are, easy to say from here. :) I hope you get some poetry too.

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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