Man in Wheelchair with Cigarette
the city
built a river walk
atop the dike
in spots
where floods come
every few years
and when they don’t
the river goes
pregnant
then barren
and back
thru spring
and summer,
freezes in time
for snow,
never hard enough
to walk across
as my mother said
all those years
I didn’t try
but even
for those who did
and got across
they enjoy the view
with their kids,
explain how it’s not much
to pass,
but better
on a bench
in those moments
when the swell
is high,
nice to look at,
ramp access
for wheelchair guys
like Stan
who fell thru
on a dare
but doesn’t hold
a grudge.
Tags: river poems, river poetry
