Saturday Afternoon

A picture would be so much easier

To show you how I feel

but the split-second shutter

of a mindless lens

could never capture the beautiful.


Cement beneath bare, folded legs,

scratching skin,

a conglomerate of stones,

ancient and broken

poured out to make flat

the path of human’s ways.


Deep breaths reveal something in the air

Extra ordinary, the smell

Fish, weeds and water mixed.

It’s simultaneously refreshing

to fill lungs with particles of the sea

which has seen more,

and will be here much longer.


The constant rumbles of unrest

rise from the river,

imperfect in its flow over rocks and logs.

Creating bright spots of bubbles and froth,

never moving from the stony anchors.

A white bride married to the

water’s desire.


I wish I could photograph this all

and seal it safe in an envelope,

to be seen by you in another land.

But you have your own seas, your own rivers

your own distant places.

And so my witness will do,

if you care to know.


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