Regardless of skepticism the impetus of water stirs falling rising slanted circling grown by rain carried away unknowing towards tap sink or drain All is a product of surge Even that static of southern roadside; the church of mosquito swelled ditches momentarily... refusing keys or switches to be released to be emptied a fear of depletion a sad fading of green into gray a venture to wet and dark a yellow flower dried a red that has died very quietly colorlessly still the impetus of water lingers swimming to seas, to oceans to feminine shores lapping and longing confused… while some gather atop the driest cliff side awaiting the faint gift of mist mouths open, tongues glued frail and bent, leaning, listing gazing towards the riverfront angry and ungrateful for the memories of the damp The impetus of water fills, washes and travels onward as a cloudburst movement of moments… running to and always away from us like the color of greenery lifting and lilting as the stem of plants -dl.Stonecypher
Posted on: Wed, 31 Dec 2014 03:01:42 +0000
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