Tuesday, August 03, 2004


This river marks my border;
its voice is umber depth
and whispers. Go no further,
it tells me. Here you end.

My lands encompass leagues
of day-- a pilgrim's realm,
a kingdom of the sun.
I covet those that lie

beyond the flood. I seek
those countries of the moon,
the silvered, silent stars,
the sea at river's end.

This river marks my border;
no, I shall not cross over
today. I have my realm,
my kingdom of the sun.

~Stephen Brooke ©2004

This poem, although it ended up as ( I think! ) a musing on mortality, grew out of memories of the river that flows near my friend Sherrie's home.

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