I'll follow you until the end,
to the Chesapeake, the opening arms of the sea.
We'll be foam on the beach,
the birds flying above, screaming.
We'll carve a mark into the land.
Tucked into the riverbed silt,
we'll dream of what may come,
what might float above our heads,
or sink down to join us, to listen to our thoughts.
Once, we were wild. We ran through forests
older than memory. The trees leaned forward,
weeping, at the beauty of our song.
Now, no one can hear us sing.
O, river, I know you love me.
I know you saved me.
You took my body against you,
and wrapped me in your waters.
You gave me another life.
What is dead may never die.
Not when the river takes a wife.

12/02/2013

Author's Note: "What is dead may never die" is, of course, from George Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. "What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger."

Posted on 12/02/2013
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair