The River

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

A ripple hardens in the cold and clear water,
And a porcelain cluster of bubbles float up.
A leaf swirls and dips under,
Suffocated by a lack of valor.
And this pathway fans out in all directions,
Leaving you to guess what is waiting around the corner.
And trees bend over,
Brushing the glossy surface with their matted fingers.
And with each passing moment,
These branches dive deeper,
Until they too are left to suffocate.