River Front

I harbor ships as they float on by, a

nd foster the connection between land and sky.

Birds flutter in like wind through a chime,

as the movement of the sun creates the passage of time.

In the morning my air is fresh with dew,

towards evening, my sky colors pink from blue.

People come to be slow, people come to be still.

Children play a

s adults sit back and watch the day.

I’ve seen visitors fight, scream, yell,

and live out stories they’d go on to tell.

Recollections of laughter, joy and heartbreak - my

waters are impartial to the scenes they help make.

I rise and fall as storms come and go,

so much so that s

ometimes my waters overflow.

It hurts, but from damage I always grow.

I am the water, I am the light. I am the sun in the day as much as I am the storms at night.

There is no respite without some plight.

A river is an alleyway,

liquid mirror on Earth,

reflecting what it’s granted, both love and hurt.