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Life is a flowing river.
Who knows where it'll bend?
Who knows how long you can stop it with those dams?
Who knows when it overflows?
She clears her way through all the hills and gravel,
Aware but unconcerned of the problems
Yet adapting with the ever changing relief.
Slow in the plains,
Fast in the mountains,
Still unstoppable in both.
YOU ARE READING
Cottage Chronicles
PoetryLife's chronicles from love, sorrow, anger, guilt, shame, happiness buried in a poetic cipher. Would you like some words and wine, on wooden floorboards? ©️ Feronia Grey
