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Monday, 9 March 2015

My Words -part four

The River
Fresh green smell of the river, it aches into my heart, the beauty.
Underneath the roughened, crumpled sky, 
the water is strong and deep and full of energy and peace.

I watch the fishermen sit by the river in quiet contemplation, 
weaving their silence in layers of contentment around themselves, 
lone figures embedded in the long green grass,
unmoving and replete.

The earthy scent of tobacco mixed with beer drifts past my nose
so that I inhale deep to capture it, 
drawing it into my body,
bringing memories of things forgotten, 
a sudden raw awareness of my own being.

I see peat coloured fish slipping through the water, 
bent in their own directions. 
the sun beginning to warm the ripples over the tops of their heads, 
sending gleams of light like silken glass moving outwards from their movement.

The dust in between the stones on the path floats up and covers my legs with a coating of dirt, 
it makes me feel like I belong, 
like I’m part of the water and the mud and the life that sings,
deep underneath the surface of the river.
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