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     Inspired last month by #PoetryFriday poet Catherine Flynn’s example, I played this week with a “golden shovel” form.  A golden shovel poem takes a line from another poem or text and uses each word in that line as the end of a line in a new poem.

 

     I hope you enjoy my contribution this week. I encourage you to visit the #PoetryFriday roundup, hosted this week by Sylvia and Janet at Poetry for Children.

“How could the drops of water know themselves to be a river?
Yet the river flows on.”

(Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Wisdom of the Sands)

Yet the River Flows On

 

If I but knew how

one magnificent body could

find its way into the

core of my being, as though filling that hollow space with drops

of rain, of snowmelt, of pine and fir ash, of

granite and wind worn by eons of water,

finding its way to a waiting womb, would then I know

that you have called me by name, like children themselves

lifting chins to

greet the voice that beckons? Might I, too, leave questions be,

and return to a

familiar embrace, content to sit by a river?

The treasure is ours. Yet

we wander, squander the

sacred, adrift, distracted, forgetting the river

will carve and calve hearts of stone, forgetting water flows,

returns to where it belongs, time marching on.

 

©2022, Patricia J. Franz

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