Spring Thaw

Emil Bisttram addisonrowe.com

Emil Bisttram    addisonrowe.com

Love like water
Without a spillway
Rises along the contours
Of the already saturated ground
Then that which what we
Cannot do without
Overwhelms us

Even the dikes
We build bag by bag
By the chain gang of self
Can’t keep pace with the cresting
The deep swirling current
Tearing at the roots
Of our footings

We are a city
Built on river bottom
In generous alpine chalets
Hot in summer colorful in the fall
Cold in winter till the thaw
Then with cracking ice
Floods the spring

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About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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3 Responses to Spring Thaw

  1. around here, it’s called mud season

    Liked by 1 person

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