2024-07-21

As I Went Down to The River to Pray...

A diverted interlude,
Sheltered in the covet
Of a slanted tree,
Which ran up to my ankles.

Actually, it was two.
One which covered half,
And the other,
Which grew almost parallel
To the flowing glass,
Before curving up from the bank.

He then sloped down and
Placed a foot on the riverbed,
Completing the aforementioned——
Covet in pavilion style.

And if one were to grow
Brave and step
Out from the denier
Of the Sun’s patterns
Into the carcinogenic light,

They would see
A clear soil which held
Tall and bush patches of grass
And the sidelining trees making
A line of demarcation for
Pure fleuvian beauty.

They too would see
The cradle——
The parabola binding a
Non-turbid sky and its whitewater——
Where our brother the Sun could each dusk
Rest his heavy neck.