Gumboots
She stands in borrowed gumboots,
Sunk deep in mud
rushing river swelling to her knees
Shaking her head
wishing to be somewhere, anywhere else
Fly fishing, not her choice but she’d lost the toss
Next time she’d win
and choose, something, anything else
But for now
mind drifting, under periwinkle sky
she peers up at the skyscraper shaped cloud,
craves the sourdough bread from the city bakery
wonders if she will beat traffic to get to there
before the storefront sign is turned.
Great story in this poem. I’ve ended up in a boat on a frigid winter day by losing the toss.
Thanks. Sorry you lost your toss. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. LOL!
I love what you did with gumboots, periwinkle, skyscraper, storefront, and most importantly, sourdough!
Thanks!
Yes – you are a wonderful story-teller and used the words, brilliantly!
“she peers up at the skyscraper shaped cloud,
craves the sourdough bread from the city bakery
wonders if she will beat traffic to get to there
before the storefront sign is turned.”
The whole poem is terrific but I particularly loved the layers in the above section, how it really conveys how much are mind contains, and how it travels even when we are standing still, somewhere else.