A Few Lines Shy of a Full Deck

The River Cries Soprano

There’s no secret in the pure revival
nature sings to passersby each morning
noon and night. The trees are tenors and
the river cries soprano as I run
the bridge across creation to the city.
I am not the stuff of office buildings
nor my life a double yellow line
that navigates the avenue to somewhere
other than my fortune. We are carbon
copies of the chaos in the clouds.
To stay alive, we sometimes need to rain.

~Greg Perry