Potomac Exhales

On the train to D.C. you can feel

the river breathe the short breaths

of the tide and the deeper

sighs of the seasons.

Inhale and the cherry blossoms
flare pink on the riverbank.

Exhale and they flutter to the ground

and melt in brown ooze.

So with Summer when the throngs

in t-shirts recite half remembered history

to bored children who want

to drink cherry Coke and buy

trinkets in red, white, and blue.

National Poetry Writing Month NaPoWriMo begins today. I am going to try it again this year.