robert dickerson


Isn't it something
how from a dusty bed
it suddenly eddies up
spills its banks,
blending and sending on
floods and floods of
dousing, sousing
driving out drought,
the sodden heart
popping up crocuses
and daffodils in its wake?

You are sweet water, sheer
singing irrigation. Dewy
drought-routing, bird-
bringing famine buster
all new green
fluent as a smile
glistening in its rift-
this, my pod can't
help but stir:
stir and fissure,
fissure and split.

Poem Submitted: Sunday, December 12, 2010
Poem Edited: Sunday, December 12, 2010

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