River Mud

I don't really feel like writing today.

I'd rather be naked on the ground,

head-to-toe exposed,

so I could really think

and hear the pines rustle.

I would bury my sadness in a funeral mound

of dirt and river mud.

I would press grasses into the soft pile

so it looks like a bump in the earth.

Then, I would rise

and walk away.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741