Time dredges torn rivers
in the silted greys
of sludged loneliness.
Paddleboats massage deep pains
with butterflown wisps of soot,
batting hopes of romance,
Brooding clays and gravel,
water-born from light to depths,
content themselves to self-made beds,
concreted on the solidarity
of wisdoms, forgotten.
( written for Open Link Night at DversePoets )