By the over of the roaring river

She laid her fragile body

No longer roughest and toughest frail

On the fair sand rested her cheek

Darkling eyes staring

At her ghastly shadow on the waters

I  sat my face by the window

And hummed poems of her

Of her ruffled curves and antique joy

I hummed till the wind blew, with it her grief

And watched her grow young and beautiful

As I till my growing love


By Roy Evans ©2017

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