Old River – Amy Johnson

Old river––carry on,
carve the ground,
glide serpent-like
through this land.

Old trees––don’t tarry,
trill your leafy tunes,
rise your heads above
us all.

Old wind––exhale now,
excite the branches,
heave the water
in patterns and rhythms.

And me––I will go,
and see the fields,
and drink in their grassy waves.


Amy is a lover of lilacs, old books, and authentic community. Her work has appeared in the Southwest Metro and Plymouth magazines, and the St. Paul Voice newspaper. She runs a blog called The Writer’s Refuge

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