River

The seasons change,

I glide at every turn.

I slither and crawl past rock,

Flowing past trees slowly wilting in the sun,

Past cities aglow with the crowd at nights.

Softly beside lovers crying on my banks,

Past agony, past joy, past anger.

I’ve been mesmerized,

I’ve been repulsed.

I’ve longed to stand still,

And I’ve worked to speed through.

But as the season change

And the people do.

I’m a river,

I flow through blues.