Post 275: Edisto River, black water, rope swing

by Carol Bass


Edisto River

Imagine, in your cupped hands

a small lump of the purest silver
you watched as it transformed
into a pocket of light, fresh air

you blew on this cloud of air
til it surrounded you all over
well you understand, right?

your imagination must be light

barely there

if the first spring cattail leaves
flew away from the mother plant
and made a bed for your rest

if the first morning drops of spring rain
moistened your head
fell over your eyebrows
touched your eyelids, like butterfly wings
finally kissing your breasts

well you understand, don’t you

because of not caring
how the utter loss of beauty, tears our souls

GOD has brought us all
to this this river
placed us down in the water
to explain love