Read Time:20 Second
I sat at the brink of an ancient father
to watch blind water sojourn in his vein.
Adult hedges defect from their homes
to wander with other wayward greens
on the fishery abode that pulsates the river.
Like legions of Roman ships led by Octavian,
they maim the countless hapless breaths in
the river and their cry is drowned
in our sighted blindness,