river’s edge

This weeks Poetry Thursday prompt is “Rivers.”  I wrote this particular poem some time ago.  Rivers have a strong association with journeys.  Some of those journeys are for pleasure, and some for commerce.  And then there are those special classes of river journeys that sit astride something more sinister and dark…
River’s Edge

The world is closing
I cannot see the sky.
Trapped like the wings of
A butterfly between
The fingers of little boys
Playing in grass fields.

Gird up your loins
Like a man,
Things will work out fine

The Shadow
Lingers over
Watching…
Waiting for me to faulty,
Like the panther, dark and sullen,
Sinewy limbs stretched tight
Ready to rip the bones from my flesh.

Who are you
To question me
With the darkness
Of your counsel

I cannot hold a candle,
To Prufrock’s boots
Let me drown by the River
Oh they will not wake me.

Hear my speech,
Suffer me a fool.
I do diligently speak,
A whisper
And a drool

I have found the Plains of Moab,
The River at my knee
I hear the trumpets of the Priest,
The people stand and stare
They will not shout for me

My soul is too black
The River is too wide
I hope the voices wake me
And I drown
– c.lowe