We took a boat out on the water one night
Started floating along the heatless river
I manned the oars while you stared up at the sky
Telling me how you weren’t afraid of dying
But maybe somewhat afraid of trying
And then we were silent, past the old boathouse
And as we glided under the broken bridge
You turned to me, slowly, shivered softly
“I’m leaving” and then left me, reeling, sinking
And it seemed like the waters, that folded in over me
Were red, or wine, and I couldn’t stop drinking
Or stem the bleeding

April 2012 Derek Wilson

~ by Derek Wilson on April 26, 2012.

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