Dams On The Cuyahoga

Just west
of the Lake,
meanders
the burning river.

The river
in my dreams.

The river on fire.

The river
that oozes

rather than flows.

The river
in which
a person
does not drown

but decays.

And there
the river sits,

waiting for me
to come back home.

poem by Holden Solo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!