Here’s an oldie, originally published in 2000 at the (now defunct) New Works Review, presented here in response to this week’s one-word prompt, Cross, at One Single Impression.
Photo Credit: Karl H Timmerman M.A.J.D.
http://www.karltimmerman.com
Crossing
The river sings of its rocks, mirrors
emerald and jade where summer
shadows attempt to outrun
sundown. I intrude, I presume,
I stand near the middle. The second cut
of hay is on the banks, neatly ordered
in rows this time of year, golden,
measuring the march-step toward August.
I think about changes: the movement
of sand through narrow places, how
a ripple diminishes downstream,
how a sound sounds when it stops.
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Lots more “Crosses” at : ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION
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Loved it before and love it still.
I really enjoyed reading this Ron and the photo was perfect to go with your poem. Nice work!
the ending is surprising; enjoyed
much love…
that is beautiful Ron………thanks for sharing it with me
This was a good one to resurect, Ron. I was also standing in the middle. My thoughts didn’t match those of your poet. I was dreaming of my days growing up on the farm.
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