New Classic Poems – Contemporary Verse That Rhymes

New Classic Poems
Love
The winter passed as slowly as it always seems to do
when ice garrotes the streams and bleeds them white,
but such a death is transient and rivers run anew
when day sees fit to break the endless night.
The sun grew strong again. A gentle breath revived the lands.
A latticework of rivulets converged
across the ice to gurgle little channels through the bands
of white and hints of blue as Spring emerged.
The swelling rivers romped across their rumpled gravelled beds,
a noisy game of leapfrog in the sun,
contesting every bank along the ancient watersheds
in effervescent adolescent fun.
As if to answer reveille, canoes appeared on racks
and kayaks crowned a fleet of westbound cars.
We bounced up mountain roads and slid askew down muddy tracks
and bivouac’d beneath a billion stars.
The newlyweds arrived and nested in amongst our crew
encamped along the restless little stream.
They’d traded in their kayaks for a sixteen-foot canoe:
the partnership would paddle as a team.
A tandem boat’s attraction is the teamwork it requires,
the unison, the sharing and the trust.
but trust takes time to grow, no matter what the heart desires,
it’s hard for solo paddlers to adjust.
The sparrow liked to run along the river’s fastest course,
she knew her craft and read the current well.
The hawk would spur his vessel like a knight astride a horse
and joust with ev’ry surf encrusted swell.
It pained to watch them paddle through a technical approach,
she’d reach to draw the bow around a crest
but he would overpower her, and often would reproach
the choice she made. His way was always best.
She didn’t mind at first. She let him choose the line and pursed
her lips each time they banged beneath the white
or broached across a rock he didn’t see. But when he cursed
at her for dumping them, her jaw was tight.
A chill crept in around the evening fire. A silence loomed
like icy fog that creeps a lonely dock.
They sat apart, the sparrow’s bright, engaging smile entombed
beneath moist eyes averted from the hawk.
The mountain skies socked in and drenched our muddy camp
with unrelenting rain. We pulled our gear
above the highest waterline and settled in the damp
to wait, impatient for the skies to clear.
33