Friday 8 November 2013

The Flotsam and The Jetsam - The River's Divide.

There are ripples on the surface of the water; a fresh breeze is blowing.

Leaves tumble slowly from the changing trees overhead.

There is an almost imperceptible smell of rain.

But on the riverbank people are sitting, some are picnicking and some are playing music, one is sleeping.

The lights from the southern bank reflect in the waves, yes it is night-time.

All good men should be abed, or so someone said once.

He is not a goodman, that is clear – otherwise why would he be here.


This river, these waters, this divide.

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