Morning Poem, March 7, 2015


As evening approached, I began to notice people on the riverbanks

At first just one or two at a time, but as the sunlight faded

And the colors of the water and stones and forest turned to deep pastel

At every turn I saw families, dressed in rags, sitting in old lawn chairs

And watching the river, silently, as if waiting for something

I wondered where they had all come from, how they had gotten to where they were

(I saw no road or path)

And why they had come at this hour

There was no evidence of communication among the little groups

It was as if they had each heard the same call, without reference to one another

And the children, some in diapers

Waded and played in the shallows by the banks

I knew that these were the people that one never saw anywhere else

Living beneath society or in holiness

And as I passed

The men and women looked at me

Without emotion or recognition

without anger or joy

And as the darkness began to fall

The places where each family sat

Took on the look of rooms with a kind of inner light.

copyright 2015

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