Not a word heard
As the river flows
Over rock, around
Banks that lie
Waiting for visitors.
The grey sky hovers
Closely, as yesterday
Is no more.
Tomorrow is yet
To be born.
I sit on the river’s edge
And gaze at the horizon,
Waiting for a sign,
A guide.
The sky becomes wide,
Clouds touched by sunset
Turn pink and float
Weightless, on the air.
Soon it is dark,
A crescent moon
Peeks out and beckons
With its beam.
I follow its stream,
Along the river’s edge.

Published by e-Fiction India. 4-2016.

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Robert L. Martin
over 4 years

Congrats, Barb, for getting this published. It is a beautiful poem. Well done.

Charlotte B. Williams
over 4 years

This is a lovely poem Barb, just beautiful, you are a very gifted writer. as I was reading it I felt as though I was there

Barb Clarke
Barb Clarke
over 4 years

Thanks Charlotte. If you felt like you were there, that is wonderful!

Charlotte B. Williams
Charlotte B. Williams
over 4 years

@Barb Clarke: Also I wanted to congratulate you on getting it published that's wonderful also.

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