sick of indoors

[zarahemla]

Skip, Barb, skip!!

High Water
by Jane Kenyon

Eight days of rain;
the ground refuses more.
My neighbors are all morose at the village store.

I'm sick of holding still, sick of indoors,
so I walk through the heavy-headed grasses
to watch the river reach
for the bridge's wooden planks,
bending the lithe swamp maples
that grow along the banks.

Nothing but trouble comes to mind
as I lean over the rusty iron rail.
I know of plenty, in detail, that is not
my own. I nudge a pebble over the edge.
It drops with a thunk into the water --
dark, voluminous, and clear,
and moving headlong away from here.

Comments

[spicedrum.livejournal.com]

to my lou?