The River’s Lament

How can I convince you, Iā€™m a river not a sewer?!

I wasn’t always caged in Victorian walls, raging in the dark of an underground vein, sunlight dust-diluted, broken by gratings. My world was of willows and birdsong, the tickle of fish and a sunbeam’s shimmer on the cusp of summer. I was calm as the centuries that wore my bends wider, steady as the creed chanted at the village church, free as the clouds who were my mirror.

That is lost. But I don’t weep. I wait. The city cannot be forever.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: