She flows,
unapologetic of her girth,
does not flinch
at barges scoring her surface,
nor paddle boats laden with curiosity.

Confident in her fluidity,
she bears the secrets of life –
the sludge of our humanity in her belly –
stirs the minds of merchants, and children,
tolerates those who gather at her banks.

The final word is hers; she knows
no boundaries can contain her wrath –
still waters rise and spill –
she is a dragon –
nature’s force,
and she is magnificent.

(Originally penned November, 2017. Edited here.   Image is a watercolour view of from our RV site. Linked to V.J’s weekly challenge:  river. )


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

14 thoughts on “Mississippi

  1. This poem is magnificent! I love how you’ve reimagined the Mighty Mississippi as a woman. She is indeed beguiling … and she always has the final word. Great work, V.J.

    Liked by 1 person

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