Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Pittsburgh 10

We are waiting,
the river and I
to get acquainted

There have been days
of temptation when I
wanted to take the
steps and go down

Walk by its side, all the
way to the prison, that
stands waiting and weary,
if I trek long enough with
an enthusiastic friend

The intimidation is not
from the bars, not even
the cold, although one
morning, pausing on the bridge,
I prayed for the glitter of
sun on its grey stillness

But no, not for this river
the religion that makes
water pompous in
some familiar lands

It has turned into a recluse
content to wash away
this jaded baggage of  turmoil.

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