PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’ve seen you before,
river that runs to the north,
when winter's copious snowfall
graced your shore in quiet solitude
and in the springtime when ice-melt
permeated steep banks
swamping fields
awaiting wild rose blossoms.

Now I have seen you in the summer
slapped up against my face,
plunged head first your swift resounding blackness,
your powerful intent and fierce determination
swirling between my fingers
spilling over ancient rocks
forever cutting your way to the ocean
where certainly you must belong.

Here, where I live amidst familiar midwest flowers,
red, yellow and stripped tiger lilies whisper,
babies’ breath and purple echinachea
smile amongst  themselves
almost laughing out loud
to feel river water
dripping  from this old woman’s hands.