but for the sound of
Water over rock.

Moss islands interject
To disturb the flow.
Lines reaching across
Are pushed aside every time.

Our rubber soles sink
Into the earth beneath us.
The river is teeming with life
And we await our chance
To take part in the cycle.

© Jeremiah Dowling 4-12-14


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About Jeremiah Dowling

I write poetry and take crazy pictures in an Orange Chair all over the United States while reading amazing books.

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