[where I had been]

The riverbank,
once the finest silt,
with young claws I dug -
the shallowest of searching
for deepest treasures
yet unearthed in this -
my own - sandy banks

Small creatures roaming
a fused terrain:
wet like yowling,
dry like storming,
undisturbed in their resolve
to live like animals
while my claws are clipped

Years gone - 
the creatures have crept
under rock and wave
and little bones like skyscrapers
push out of a maggot colony of skin,
I marvel -
I wonder -
what died here, where I had been

Reviews

[Pax]

your always the puzzling poet, and much mysterious poet i ever meet my friend... i love your words and that's why i always come here and read you.... are we all little lost at times, and wondering how come we're here, at some point those questions lingers on and on until we got used to it, hard to find the answer... anyways great reading you my friend, many foods for thoughts here... :)