river
River Travelers
They know this river, know it well.
Daily, they bring their fruit to sell.
We, who find the river strange
reach out our bills as we lack change,
for what they’ve brought to us from shore.
They hand out more and more and more
to strangers whom they must find dense
to give them such great recompense
for what God has amply provided.
All their village has derided
those who float by in big boats,
holding out their ten sol notes
that would buy every bunch they carry.
They wonder why we do not tarry
for our change after we pay.
Silent, they watch us float away.
The baby held in mother’s arms
does not know what nearby harms
lurk beneath the water’s cloak—
the jaws that snap, the water’s soak.
But we know what small guarantee
exists in lives of poverty.
Rubbed raw, perhaps, by all we have,
our generosity is salve.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
There are whole communities who rely on rivers for their existence – I am always intrigued to read about it. “generosity is salve” – so true. What else can we do.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Did you know that not one bridge spans the Amazon? I found this out earlier this year when researching for a poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I didn’t. How interesting in this day and age.
LikeLike
Interesting poem, make us appreciate what we have.
LikeLike
Pingback: No Stopping the River – One Woman's Quest II
Interesting, life is so different everywhere.
LikeLike