Saturday, March 11, 2017

the river flows south in flatlines to the strait

the river flows south in flatlines to the strait
as bicyclists peddle briskly against the wind
up slopes that youthful riders cope 
restlessly reaching their peaks

until aging stumbles them downstream
pooling up at dams
wild horse wheels galloping 
sliding day into night over ends

o to be youthfully invincible
compensating for every error
fumbling through every endeavor
without becoming devoured

to pulse a youthful heart of heated air
rising like white butterflies on thermal drafts
like spirits flitting to and fro
overcoming every crosswind blow

gravitational enemy of time
as over the falls we eventually go
washed up driftwood and polluted
to rise in the sun shaft over the ledge

March 11, 2017

No comments:

Post a Comment