The Slam: Slammables

Ode to the Snake River

by ancient amateur, Gallifrey

This is what we call a river. Do you see it?

It swirls, like paint, but it can freeze, too.

Can you freeze?

It brushes against the ground alongside.

We call this a bank. No, not like the bank

on 5th Street.

This river and its bank are priceless. 

 

Look! There! Do you see the glimmer?

We call this a fish. Isn't it beautiful?

What is it, you ask? It's a sort of light.

It lives within the river. It swims, like you,

but I would take the liberty

of naming it superior. 

 

Author's Note: A poem for the Snake River, near Jackson, Wyoming.

Slammings

I feel like I’m there with you. I love the gentle tone you bring with this poem, It feels like you really care about your reader. Hugs from across the internets!

critiqued by KnitFeathers
Jun 28, 2017