POEMS OF DAVID WILEY     

RIVER 

CROSSING 

 

The trail plays hide & seek

with the sound of the rushing water.

Every green door opens with a light touch.

Every room is filled with sunbeams.

Here is the river,

the bridge made of tree material,

sinewy like a light muscle

pulling continents together.

Over the river lies a history of animals.

Half way across I feel hypnotized:

the roar of the water,

the swaying of the sun,

my dry mouth.

Let there be fish in the pools! 

 

All images and text copyrighted.  All rights reserved.  ©  Copyright 2002 David Wiley.