|
|
| |
by Louise DeBrower©1997 |
| |
The cup, filled, |
| |
river, the river of life.
|
| |
I tumble and roll upon |
| |
the landscape kissing |
| |
it with life. I suckle
|
| |
the crops. I carry the
|
| |
ships, boats of joy,
|
| |
sorrow, and
|
| |
commerce. With
|
| |
pleasure and pain. I |
| |
am passed over, |
| |
under, and through. I |
|