river edge blues




I hear you calling,

In the echo of the breeze.

I feel the sharp cold

On the tip of my nose,

the chill on my knees.

the literal sounds of reality,

the fire will

burn –

and then out.

The small timid

voices of birds

Finding their nests on

A cold river bed.

Reeds twitter along –

small tired wings,

after all it is winter.


One small prayer…

And a longing

for the warmer

of my soul,

I wrap up my spirit,

I guard my heart.

Tomorrow –

I will see her

And that

Warm loving smile.


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