Tom Simard

Poetry, Music, and Prose

Water and Silt

Water and Silt
Ever the dreamer
unable to see
as his carefully laid plans
came to naught,
and he found himself
in a century-old house
where cats had
crawled about
the matriarch of the clan
rocking in her chair
with simplistic ease. 

In a land of poverty
where nothing took to the soil
but weeds.

When winter came
you moved about
to keep warm
as if there were no walls
surrounding you.

You turned on
the creaky bathtub
faucet,
and after an
interminable delay,
there came a
burst
like a bronchial fit,
an equal measure
of water and silt.

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12 thoughts on “Water and Silt

  1. Suzanne on said:

    Brilliant. Says it all really. :)

    Like

  2. loved every aspect of it, Tom Marvellous piece – thank you.

    Like

  3. “there came a burst like a bronchial fit,”—Great description! The healthcare provider in me likes that one. :)

    Like

  4. Very eloquent :)

    Like

  5. The last stanza is just wow.

    Like

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