Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Metamorphic Journal 5

Installment Number 5 - I think this is my favorite.

                I don't know how deep,
how cold. I want
to touch it, drink of it, open mouth
bent to it.

Sometimes as a child
I'd slip on the rocks and fall in.
Never mind.
I wanted to know
the river's riveriness with my self,

be stone or leaf, sink or be
swept downstream
to spin and vanish, spin
and hover, spin
and sweep on beyond sight.

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