The River from PB Squared by PB Squared

I have returned to the river.
It seems the same to me
running with my memory,
reflected in her course
And cold, dispassionate
Flowing

She was the place to find myself.
Keeper Of my dreams,
desires then just drifting,

Dragged from her green banks,
leaving life behind ,
Drowning in her waters;
cradled darker, deeper.
And cold, dispassionate
Floating .

She was the place to find myself.
Keeper Of my dreams,
desires then just drifting,


I tie a line to my waist
With the other end safe on land
To keep me held while I swim in her,
Secure but my knife in hand.
And cold, dispassionate
Swimming.

• Acoustic
• folk
• modern
• Southampton