Riff On Emily Martin's 'Crush.' - Poem by David McLansky
Your love was like a rivulet
Running to the sea
Dribbling down an islet
That splashed my toe and knee;
For while it captivated
It ran so fresh and free,
I stood in it, I hesitated
Could I let it wash me?
Your love flowed like a streaming trickle
Between the pebble rocks
My foot dammed it and caused a ripple
It hardly soaked my socks.
I want my love to be a river
That sweeps me through the gorge
That raises goose bumps as I shiver
As to the sea it pours
Comments about Riff On Emily Martin's 'Crush.' by David McLansky
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.