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Poem 108: Yet still the mighty rivers © Bruce Goodman 2 January 2022 |
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These carriers of teeming life, How quiet the ribboned waters go Then tumble rocks in jagged strife. Yet still the mighty rivers flow. Farmers milk their herds of cows; They moo, and eat, and fart, and low; And all the shit escapes somehow, Yet still the mighty rivers flow. Factories on the river side Exude their waste, no fuss or show. Dead fish no longer need to hide, Yet still the mighty rivers flow. The farmers’ farms have said goodbye. Factories closed: financial woe. All is dead and withered dry Yet still the mighty rivers flow. |