A Poem by Clyde L. Borg

BY THE HUDSON

 

We often visited the Hudson

To enjoy the cool breeze,
And our grandmother would
Alert us as we peered into the river.

The murky water beckons,

Each rivulet and swirl
Urging, tempting, calling,
Come, come to me!
Its rhythmic lurches
Summoning one and all
To be part of its vastness.
Its white foamy teeth
Wishing to engulf
And consume all
That gaze upon it,
Always enticing, luring
Everyone to enter its
Watery realm.

Clyde L. Borg is a retired high school teacher and administration. He has been writing poetry and nonfiction since 1998. Some of his work has appeared in Fate Magazine, History Magazine, The Rambler, Primo Magazine and Capper's. He resides in Fords, New Jersey.