The river sled through the valley, ripe
as the heavy weeds and sprouting flowers
spread across the bank, flooded in the softest mud.
Last year at this time, I stood here
fondly dipping each toe through the grazing waters.
Now, I fasten my bust against the spirited wind.
I could smell her, quite alive in the slouching
press of lilies. I turned, trimmed my way deep
into the valley, blooming in whites.
Donny Barilla, born in Dallas, Texas, weaves around common themes, such as: mythology, nature, human intimacy, and theology. Writing on a daily basis, he engages in the beautiful landscapes that surround him in his home of Pennsylvania. He is currently working on his next book, and has published in numerous journals and magazines.
COPYRIGHT 2018 LITERARY JUICE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Produced from 100% Everything