The River

One tattered Vans sneaker in front of the other/ the dainty steps of worn sandals pattering behind in time Their/ gold straps radiant in the honeyed rose glow of the sun’s dying/ embers/ The conversation meandering/ like puppies/ blithely yapping, frolicking/ Gingerly/ treading over crumbling side/walks careful not to reopen a crack and/ splinter scarred fissures/ Old/ wounds still bruise and blister/ His doe-eyes singing with a glebe innocence/ Mud/ she jokes but what she means to say was like the Earth/ nurturing and safe in its embrace/ The heart of the river/ herding them to/ a place/ their minds have long cast off/ Its thunderous churning/ staccato/ welcoming/ The river still flowing, even after they’ve eroded away.