A Gift To A River

 I stepped down from the sandy bank,
Left foot prints into water soaked mud.
Water swirling, river churning,
Swept my mark down water’s course
To disappear into sunlight’s glistening passage.
And this I thought; so this is life.
The print was there, and it was mine.
But with the water’s twist and time,
Became the river flowing on… and gone.
And in my rage I stopped to wonder
Was this footprint mine at all.
Or did I always intend
To give it to the river.


4 thoughts on “A Gift To A River

  1. Love where this led, Lockie. I’ve given many footprints to a river and lately quite a few to the Atlantic Ocean. If it doesn’t take them now it often comes back for them in a few hours.

  2. Pingback: A Gift To A River | Kate McClelland

  3. This reminded me of those prehistoric footprints they found of a small child and a man – They could tell how tall they were, how heavy and how fast they were walking when they made them! Maybe somewhere someone is making footprints right now, that will show up in thousands of years time to some future archaeologist – maybe they’re yours Lockie :0)

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