Poetry Map of Scotland: poem no. 316

The Course of Life

A river is a one-way kind of thing.
It starts off small,
somewhere nobody has ever heard of,
sometimes, somewhere with no name to speak of,
some place no-one wants to visit at all.

Before you know it, it’s all grown up.
On a map,
with capital letters,
and some (added) responsibilities.

If you are lucky,
you get to see your river meet the sea.
See it twinkle and rage.
Watch it lap, look back and wave.

Sarah L. Dolan

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