Friday, February 22, 2013

Standing on the soggy, flower strewn bank.
"I must have flowers," she said.

The water.
The rolling, curling current.
"The water! that is it," she thought
(She has tasted the brackish water for us.)
Explored, noted, struggled.
(And one must not forget these sacrifices.)

Choking, gasping breathing in the unfamiliar atmosphere.
'Surely I knew it must be thus; must need be strong'
Feel the firm maternal grip, the pull.

"The rocks lay just so," she said,
watching a thin layer of sediment
pass slowly over the river bottom.

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