THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

Copyright by Gordon Kuhn 2013
All rights reserved.

There’s dirty water runnin’ ‘neath the bridge
Comin’ from stained streams up by the wooded ridge
What looks down on everyone, especially me
And it keeps my soul from bein’ untied and set free
It smells of blood and sin, urine, and what-all. And then
It takes me, carries me, back to when.

There’s dirty water runnin’ ‘neath the bridge
Comin’ down in frothy streams from a high up wooded ridge
Runnin’ from someplace I once had been
It takes me, carries me, back to when. April 24, 2013