“I will sit and listen to the water”

Until the current gets so loud that
I realize a storm is on the way.
We are in the flight path
of the international airport
so I misinterpret the thunder
to be a Boeing 777

We collect our glass and river bricks
in makeshift bags and a too small box
filled with rounded glass and broken pottery
of course there was a piece of metal
and circuit board that needed to
be liberated from the riverbed too

Things were getting heavy,
the air, the bags, the box of rocks
we still had to get to the car
with pounds of potential art projects

A drop landed on my face
he mentioned that he had been hit as well
Just one more piece of white glass
and he found another piece of blue bottle
he could see blue where I could only see
green, white and chipped pottery
with rounded rustic river bricks.

Then we had to drag it all up the hill
as the rain poured down on us
a relief from the heat and the
mosquitoes, the warm water made
me feel like we were clean
un-scarred by life and
the week’s trauma.

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6 thoughts on “Playing with Plato’s Mudpies

Any thoughts on the above post are appreciated! Otherwise, I think I must be living under a rock.

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