Poem By Anthony Dawson
Water seduced me in my early days
offering me the eyes of a fish,
the trust of a baby in mothers arms.
I still rest my feet at the edge of the river
where the trees viewed the haste of
witnessed the spilling of blood;
Branches transmit static with the wind
as all voice is lost.
Earth painted feet climb the bank,
look down upon the current;
it abducted me when young,
with no warning
and whispered to me:
Why do you embrace my journey?