there was a river

“A river doesn’t just carry water, it carries life.”  
—Amit Kalantri  
   
i.  
once, there was a river  
that made glad  
the people of the village of his birth;  
such a kindly giver,  
wetly clad,  
whose fortune came from deep inside the earth.  
   
ii.  
eager children tarried  
on his banks  
to watch leaf boats come dancing round his bend,  
gazing as he carried,  
in their ranks,  
flotsam and jetsam to their salt-lake end.  
   
iii  
crayfish idling ‘neath rough  
spawning stones—  
pale decapods with giant pincer claws—  
swordfight to the beat of  
clashing bones,  
stirring the waters with their stubborn jaws.  
   
iv.  
women brought clothes baskets  
to the brink  
to ink the river with their sudsy brew;  
thirsty men dipped flaskets  
low to drink,  
as bobbing mullets played light peek-a-boo.  
   
v.  
once, there was a lover  
who was sad;  
a broken heart had stolen all her mirth.  
only by the river  
was she glad:  
deep in his depths she found her missing worth.  
   
© Copyright 2023 August 18  
by Clyve A. Bowen♫