The River

Weaving strands of dust
Slink across this
Dry river bed

Through upturned lips
Of cracked islands
Mud that once was

Now needing
Pleading
From an aching thirst

With parched bushes
Depressed trees
Sparsely line the bank

Overhanging this empty shore
Sadly searching
For a sparkling sip

One by one they have left
For fear of
An arid death

And is this place yet dead?
No, not this dry river bed
Indeed it lives

Only now in patience
Lying, waiting for when
That cool water flows again

Reviews

[Trevor Fielding]

Powerful words. "Depressed trees" really stuck out to me. Nicely done.

[Deandra Dawn]

Great imagery. Awesome job.

[Emrick]

so sad.
I like the theme.

[E.H. Monroe]

besides the general thirst of some migrating plants, the undertone that we have all took on of just being thirsty for something but we stay by the same swallowed up hole praying that one day the great river will opebn up is where i went with it. i mean sure, thirsty, water, arid, etc all show the reader the in your face need for sustenace, but when digging down some levels jack, holy hell I got a feeling im waiting around for a few things that aint gonna pan out..
nicely done sir..can i get an amen

[Siren]

I got thirsty reading this. You have created a humid, thick, summer day, and I immediately feel the desire for the cool drink of water. Great Job, Haunzy.