Nothing More

The rivers run red
Over a white ocean
Glazed in liquid salt.
The streams surge
Against their smooth banks
And flood over the black
Cat tails that bat to

And fro. And the waters
Are pale and stagnant,
Drained of their hot-blooded
Hue. One would never know
The tumult and strife
At the river’s head. “Nothing more
Than rain,” they’d say.
Nothing more.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s