Another walk-inspired poem. We Floridians have to enjoy the mild winter weather while we can. It is but one of the many things we can’t control.
The river is a living thing.
She vibrates, quivers. Shimmering,
She ferries ripples here and there,
Her stretch relaxing everywhere.
A muddy green, a viscous brown,
She cages diamonds in her crown
And robes herself transparently,
Disquising depths that none can see.
The queen of all, her winding arms
Attract admirers to her charms.
She wraps each borough with her thighs
And rises when the tide is high.
No noble house, historic street,
Her liquid pride derides. Compete?
No feat of Man can bend or sway
Her will. She always gets her way.
We bridge her, dam her, pave above–
But are these not all acts of love?
We marvel still, from buildings tall:
This puddle will outlast us all.
Copyright 2023 Andrea LeDew
For other poems inspired by walks and nature, read Historic, and Cicadas. For an essay on the shooting that took place at a high school named after a great Florida naturalist, read River of Grass.
Bones of Christmas
I love this! How many beautiful moments I’ve shared with this lovely queen. . . as well as the perils of her rising tides! I was drawn to her, craved her, was married on her banks. Walking along Riverside Avenue after one of her furies, I sobbed at the debri she tore up and flung on her shores, but then I understood. She shan’t be tamed. She is to be respected.
Well said Joan! One must know her, to love her. Welcome to my blog!
Thank you! So glad to e-meet you!