Shacks lined the river bank.
A rickety bridge for crossing.
Reeds grow near the water’s edge.
Birds nesting, hidden in the reeds.
Cluster of little puddles with life.
Of tadpoles metamorph into frogs.
On rainy days a symphony heard.
The bull frogs singing in harmony.
The river bank is home to many.
Of dragonflies and hummingbirds.
Among the reeds they dance.
On their backs, imagine fairies.
The river calm on sunny days.
White ripples the only disturbance.
The river ragging on stormy days.
White ripples turn into crashing waves.
If I were an artist, this river I’d paint.
Flourishing among the reeds, life.
Its waters thriving with fish.
And the river bank home to many.
By C.E. Pereira
You must be logged in to post a comment.