The Wanderer's Soliloquies

I began with the patience of stone

unmoved by waterflung time

whether snowmelted sunflashing torrent

or trickle down dust-dumbed

summer slowness,

I was.

In all seasons time broke and scattered

its remnants coalescing somewhere

in the sunswept flow of the next riverbend

dashing fishfinned and swift

over its pebble pearled bottom

away, away.

I am stained by the rise and flow

yet unmoved. It was not enough to be settled, still

while sunflung water westered

and bright, flew far and long

in ribbons of gladness

to the sea

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~ by Mark Neal on April 10, 2008.

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