Chris Wrzesien Poems

Once great mighty river,
why so thin? why so tired?
Your raging battle cry through the wood
is now an endless sigh of watery air.
...

I sat backward in the van today
seats so cluttered with junk
that I had to sit on the floor,
staring at the back window.
...

When I sit with my back straight and my eyes closed
vividly visualizing my happy place
on a mountain rock under orange skies
with all my happy people
...

The window woke me this morning,
wanting to witness something new,
so Iwondered whether I should attempt the routine
that only weird and wonderful friends do.
...

I'd rather look to the sky for answers -
she watches the world and provides the rain,
while books are closed and suddenly blinded -
they have no concept of blossoming change.
...