Our River That Sings

Our River That Sings
© Surazeus
2018 02 26

The teenage girls run screaming in the store
but vision vanishes in morning haze
so I pause at the strange numberless door
going nowhere in the meaningless maze.

When the hot gleaming sun dries out my pond
I crawl toward blur of green and flash of blue
over stinking muck to the frilly frond
where I sniff for water as secret clue.

The scent of water lures me to clean pool
where I slip into deep shimmering glow
so I float safe till I again feel cool
then search recesses where water plants grow.

I wake from reverie of ancient dreams
in college library, reading text book
about creatures that dwell in lakes and streams,
and recall hiding in the secret nook.

Young woman in long skirt with flowing hair
sits near and looks at me with sea-blue eyes,
so my heart pounds, but I try not to stare,
while longing to kiss her under spring skies.

She smiles at me so I sit by her side
and we share fun stories about our lives,
then walk to my car and go for a ride,
talking of cuisine and science archives.

We lie together on the river shore,
making love among flowers to bird song,
then walk holding hands in the new-home door
to teach our children about right and wrong.

I see visions in the air while she talks
that sparkle when I gaze in her clear eyes,
and we hold hands on slow afternoon walks
by our river that sings to swirling skies.