Just when you thought I might have forgotten about this, I’m back.
A few years ago, I decided to plunge into the poetry pond after spending time with a good group of poets in my Muscatine, Iowa, writing group Writers on the Avenue. Recently, I decided to see if some of you might have some interest in some of my work. So, this poetry night here at The Writing Life looks like it will be a monthly event.
So, you know how this works. Everyone gets one poem for free, and my paid subscribers get one extra. The first one is a bit of a river tale, as the Mississippi River seems to be a theme and a source of inspiration for me. The second one is about going through doors…
No-Man’s Islands (A River Story)
The thing that The River has over other rivers and streams
is its own land.
Usually, it's just a dirt road of two-lane blacktop of muddy water
or a four-lane at best.
But The River has its own land, right there tucked in the channel.
Carved and molded and rounded-off by the ever-shifting waters
with no shape but overwhelming mass and motion.
These are the No Man's Island’s.
Temporary Sentinels guarding the river for as long as they're around.They are for no one for everyone that has a boat
or strong enough swimming stroke.
Some are bare sand, all but ready for a rise in The River
to send it away.
Others are thick jungles, oaks and maples cluttering the interior
and hanging off the banks like a daredevil hanging from a bridge.
They're perfect for parking your boat,
and getting some sun quota for the day.
You hang out with love behind the trees and bushes
obscuring the view of the jet skiers and party boat passengers and barge crews.
It's their own little fiefdoms away from the cares and stresses
On Shore.
At least, they are until the snacks and beers in the coolers run out.
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