Downstream, upstream,
Regal, Bayliner, pontoon, tri-hull,
pontoon, fisher, Bayliner pulling
an inflatable raft, children screaming,
kayaks, pontoon floating bar scene.
Jet skis racing.
A Cigarette boat slows
and turns back downstream.
The river churns.
On the bluff I feel
the agitation of the river —
the flow impeded.
Like the stream, I am
pulled.
My life a recreation
of others.
Trumpeter Swans desert,
in unison they search
for peace. Eagles, shaken
by chaos, return no more.
No shore birds wade
where there is no calm.
* * *
“We’re only trying to get us some peace”
— Lennon/McCartney
Excellent job of capturing a frantic feel in the opening stanza. Also, “My life a recreation
of others.” can be read two ways – cool. Good stuff!
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We go on vacations to remind ourselves how wonderfully recreating being at home can be! Thanks Z!
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The birds and I always seek a quiet perch away from the fray. Nicely captured
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Finding a place away from the fray… a place of solitude… is getting harder. Especially near a body of water. Woe to us who reflect, write… do artwork. Thank you for stopping by to read!
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You are welcome
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Great poem. The birds see and feel the chaos we humans create.
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As do I. Thank you!
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“No shore birds wade / where there is no calm” The wilderness, the necessary, retreats from the human static and noise.
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Nor are the shore birds of our imaginings able to fish with the muse when idiots ply the waterways nonstop. …or something like that. Thanks, Randall!
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LOLO! Yes!
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