I am sitting by the river yet again.
I am writing poems and thinking of untold worlds.
The river is getting faster and faster.
Some action upstream I expect.
Yours Sincerely, POSOWOCO
Foreword
Anyone wanting music to drift along to the sea to- they all go there?
Want a tune for the constant flowing of things in your life, the repetitive non-negotiable events?
Or do you need to consider the flow of your life?
To think of everywhere that time and events are covered?, dreams are in there somewhere?
Flowing
The river
is strange, it's there and yet it is not.
Because
it flows, no-one can say where it is.
But
the river is there as real as anything.
The river
is a spine, a backbone of life.
Typically
the river contains life and debris and transports both.
The sounds
here follows the angry flow of an untiring river.
Flowing River
I feel so strange,
I am there and yet not,
I have a start and end, I forgot.
Because I flow, no-one can say to me,
Where I live or belong,
Much like a lot of things on earth.
Being a thing though,
As real as anything alive today,
I contain the life and debris of the times.
Each day, each night,
I slip and slide this way and that,
Eating away at my banks.
From source to sink,
I flow and think,
And don't get any thanks.
2nd July 2019
