Up river

Up river.
Where the world bleeds green,
and the only gold is liquid clear,
refreshing in each new flow.
Lost stories in trees,
severed by flood debris, these
cannonballs on water highways.
Perhaps a thought, hand in hand,
amongst the eight foot guinea green
upon the banks to the wild fresh.

Beneath the reaching giants.

4 responses to “Up river

    • Thanks, Mr Martin, it helped a lot spending most of the week at the location on the river following an ambulatory boundary in good country.

  1. Nature displays its beauty in your words. I bet the memories of this place you so poetically described did stay with you for sometime, at least.

    Some of my favourite lines:

    ‘Where the world bleeds green’ — I believe this a great way to describe a lush vegetation.

    ‘Lost stories in trees’ — this reminds me of the storybook, ‘Talking Trees.’ I read it when I was a boy.

    • I had been there most of last week, and will be there again this week sometime. Thanks for finding the time to write back, those two lines do kind of sit up amongst the companions of lines. Cheers!

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