NaPoWriMo – Day Four: Waterway

When the rain can down heavy

the stream swelled,

turned the colour of stewed tea,

tore mouthfuls of mud

from its battered banks,

ragged at the roots

birthed fresh from their safety,

still knitted and twisted

in earth that was gone.

In the bottom it was peat.

Even when the sun shone bright,

painted the slip of water silver

and shimmered.

Even when it cooked the day

split the ground,

turned tarmac soft,


It’s underbelly was still silt

and quicksand.

One Comment

Comments below, but please leave your bots at the door.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.