River Road


Euphoria too shall pass–
the bursting at beauty
you’d bottle up
and keep forever,

the little farmstands,
towering sunflowers
that will soon topple,
seasons changing

so quickly you want
to grab the camera
to capture a feeling
better off felt.

What a blessing
is the growing season,
the harvest, too,
and the yellow moon.

If I had not known
despair, hadn’t seen
the fields fallow and lay
cold and convinced

we were surely doomed,
I would not have come
to River Road,
to the red-roofed barns

and tobacco drying,
where the blue, blue sky
courted the meadow’s green
and it was plain to see

the dying, my own
and yours, before my eyes.
Let’s keep them open, love.
We’re still alive.

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