Twenty-some years
on the banks of Ohio,
growing up in the reflection
of light off its waves,
and the smell of the water
sinking down to the bottom
where the catfish
and mud-eaters filter the silt.

Twenty-some years
with same bridge and
skyline
the Ohio-Carpenter
stretched its tressels
of iron
across the-same-color
river as it rose and it
fell.

Twenty-some years
and I left it just as quickly
as my young legs would take me
wading through
the water, sometimes shoulder high,
to escape
the fate of so many before me
to drown in that town
on the river Ohio.

12/05/2008

Author's Note: I am not the only one who felt this way.

Posted on 12/06/2008
Copyright © 2026 Vikki Owens