mississippi

somewhere in the space

between Georgia and Louisiana

the Mississippi cut into us.

 

we’d been blaring Muddy Waters

and i understood each of his croons

as if they were my own.

 

the backseat was stacked with books,

a lantern,

and wool lined coats

in case it got cold.

 

I wondered about the river

and the tides it had known.

it wasn’t beautiful,

not the way the ocean was

back home-

 

but mud is strangely comforting.

 

and I think that’s the ruse,

you know..

the swamp is tangible,

moist earth

and it lends itself to be trusted

as if it had always been yours.

sheila cordova

 

 

 

 

26 thoughts on “mississippi

    1. haha thank you! You know I keep hearing that my poetry has a book/story like quality.. I hadn’t really noticed but yeah I guess so! That’s actually great to hear since I’m working on a novel. :))) Thanks for coming by!

      Like

  1. ohh but I so like this,
    “the swamp is tangible,
    moist earth
    and it lends itself to be trusted
    as if it had always been yours.”
    a touch of the abstract is enough to draw me in, but your delivery sealed it. your voice here has an air of intrigue about it which adds flavour to the imagery! nice

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s