Today I was writing my school reports and something came to me quite suddenly - about three minutes later I had written a whole poem on my spell check sheet!... the joy of spontaneous writing, if only it would visit me more often.
I shouldn't ruin my poem with a long explanation, I suppose a tiny bit of my subconscious managed to spill over the rim of my psyche for a moment, and memories of me 15 years old are suddenly back. Not with nostalgia, mind you, it was what is was. I thought I should send it to my ex and facebook says I did not have permission to contact him - smirk. Here is the poem -
River.
Sometimes I think of the river
It’s low smell, three o’clock
The pooling of dank water
Warm, salt insects
Of the wind rushing my skirt, perched
That wouldn’t really touch me
The trees rushing by one colour
And silence I could see
The cool grit smell of evening
Inhaled smoke and bitter
The lights on mum’s car waiting
As grass cut at my feet
You wave and I still smell you
The stubble and the water
It was so sweet and salty, then.
My river time is through.
