The River’s End
The river's end is near.
I hear its waves wash the rocks,
winding its way through the cluttered pine.
Copper leaves sway, descending, descending, descending.
waltzing with the wind.
A leaf am I, swaying in the wind.
Crusted and freckled, cracked with time.
I drift, falling, falling, falling,
and as I rest on the river's waves,
with the fish and their friends,
I finally succumb to peace.
Floating, floating, floating.
as the weight takes me under
I breathe a deep breath.
I look up at the sky! Oh how blue it can be.