Dark River (Poetry)

Dull days drift by unnumbered and unnamed
the current drags them seamlessly along
they bob like boats abandoned — sail unmanned
their fleet long-scattered — aimless — floating on...

The year’s dark river has them in its thrall
and tugs whatever thoughts might slip away —
escape grim moorings — heed some stirring call
to journey — sever ties that bid them stay.

The cold caresses — numbs each doubting nerve
allows imagination its full spate
to follow winter’s dream round every curve
and rock concerns into a distant state

of meditation — peeling back the view
all colour bleeds distraction — edges blend
the landscape of the mind — ghosts wander through
stretch free as though such boundaries transcend...

Night folds around the vision — sleep lays claim
yet still boats bob the curtained banks between
towards an inner sea that bears no name
its timeless shore uncharted and unseen.