Friday, September 16, 2011


Throw me down the river
let me drown a thousand times
in the swirling flutes of water

Winter is always so cold and gray
unchanging year after year
only the sky can shift

clouds roll down from heaven
choking the waters surface
slowly gathering at the feet of ancient trees
and covering my eyes
as I float down the Vltava

Occasionally I can feel pebbles under me,
sometimes only freezing depth
but always an unchanging current

The forest, on its tip toes at the shores and banks,
waves to me as the wind shoves by to ask
“where have you been?”

If not for the
water in my lungs
I would say
instead my heart asks
“Where does this river end?
When can I stop”

The trees were silent
the wind left with chagrin
all I could hear was the
distant rush of cold water
and my heart
barely beating
when finally a small flower
on the bank
with a bright yellow face
looked to its roots and said

“It doesn't, you wont”

With that,
I held on to nothing
and let the river take me without a fight

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