Poetry

Tuesday, 17 September 2019

river blues

The stars are guiding me home
Its nothing political
I just don't know who I am
Somewhere between
Mother earth and
The horizon I span
A stretch of water
A River heard
The myriad waves
Like sheep I herd
With my oar
Collecting them only to
Ferry them away
Usher of tides
The coming war

What comes in I wonder
On the tides
What am I, flotsam?
Or jetsam?
From your ship
Where I was tied

Hauled anchor
Waylaid
Lied
And capsized
By the tempest
The Tsunami
The Temple bride
Of a watery world
Where I'm
Face down drowning
In space, I'd
Give my left arm for
A life buoy
She cried
And I swam to her rescue
The fescue starving waves
Of dissent
The mobs boil
Like shark infested water

No comments:

Post a Comment