Ghost of a River

Photo Credit: brtsergio via Compfight cc

Ghost of a River

I was a river once, too.

Now my power has waned.

There are days when I am a ghost,

an empty bed,

dry.

Sometimes I am a trickle

a silver snake

too weak to be counted on.

When rains come,

they pretend to be me.

They roll down my path,

muddy and stupid.

There was a river here once,

but nothing is forever. 

2015 November PAD Challenge