Through the River.

As when the shores collapsed,
Through the depth in the given shores of vague death,
I’d see it go beyond the moons that tided red,
With their rims of eminence through the plated stars
And that sobering wind that drew to the shallow, strange waters,
Upon lonesome skins of the sea’s dressing and cloth
Through the calls of another time,
What was it that became part of myself?

And I’d never know beyond the lone tears of shore
Into the suffering grain of lingered time,
Above that shining dead tribunal moon,
The one that looks down and utters
That tender, sterling valor that tells
The rise of the waters through drips,
Onto the moans of darkly fog that’d present
Itself onto the bristles of unheard wind,
And I’d have never known what I lost.

Where the rivers and rills departed
From my dreams of no remembrance
With a shallow tear to expel
As the dreams do swelt in the rivers,
And the tears long into the shore,
Caressed with fresh, fresh tolls of
The rife, plagued wind,
That went into another time.

And even after as the moon shades
The gaze of dreams in the death of spring,
I’ll have the memories in my longing heart
With it, beating, as the lonely dream,
Where I’d wake to the echoes of worn loss
Upon the watchful, cold slim rivers that slept
Where death washes over the river bygone.

© 2019 All Rights Reserved.

2 thoughts on “Through the River.”

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