the world washes over me, often
waves of conversations
I must remind myself
there is purpose in holding on
cars and tugs and trains sweep by
dreams on their way to other imaginations
the river pushes past, all apparitions
following the currents south
to the delta at Cairo
where I am told
where I must remember
dreams went to die
and those who hung on
with them
Tag Archives: currents
breathe collapse and roll
honeysuckle cross currents south
of the river 6 miles or so the wind
carries and here we walk through
and here we dig out the mud and here
we know the breeze and the whitecaps
that, rolling by, bloom and die