Poetry 'n Prose

Not Drowning, But Waving

(with apologies to Stevie Smith)


I woke up to the distance

of the river from where you came

and where I once

waved to you

but you hadn’t noticed.


You were busy

in your sweetness

with summer’s juices

a great swell moving

with a tongue to sing

here inside life bloomed.


Where you used to be

you slipped so easily

to the hands of another

waiting among

the rocks and trees.


By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

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