by Katharine Schulz
Diverse chirps from the banks of the river
sung at similar hours
form this sweet Delta song
and if you remember,
Maybe you could sing it back to me?
Our wicker sewn raft bobs on simmering green waters
lamentations about my love
you’ll listen
Talk in turns, listening without response or recognition
I fear the day when the boat begins to rock
or the waters pick up
and one of us faces the wind
when the other does not
That’s the only way it would happen anyways
a screaming storm, throwing water down my back
rapacious, predatory waves inching me across the raft
until I land at the spot
Where I can kiss you
but for now the water is soft and smooth
Friends of the Harvest will harmonize and
until the full cold moon stops us in our tracks,
we can lay our heads down
with ample distance between them
© 2021 Katharine Schulz All rights reserved.
Click or tap here to see Katharine Schulz’s profile.
Use the “Leave a Comment” form below to submit comments on this piece.