Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Island: a poem I wrote when I was about 19 years old


This is what I see…

a wide stretch of river,
cottonwoods
peering lazily into water

oars slip-slipping
eddies of baywood and crayfish,
rowboat sliding upstream

and one green feather of island
slurring water,
succulent seed of sun-moist loam.

Copyright 2009 by Thomas L. Kepler, all rights reserved

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