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.