If I throw stones
they will not be at you
as I am not without sin
in this
& we are already
so practiced
in the best ways
to hurt each other
why invent new ones?
But perhaps
together
we can use these stones
placed so temptingly
within reach
to step across
the thing that divides us;
a vast, muddy river,
an Amazon of old pain
that will surely
swallow us in its thick currents
if we try
to ford it alone.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
“An Amazon of old pain” – what a great phrase. It says so much in a few short words. Brilliant!
Thank you. It just popped in my head after my draft & I had to go with it!
Those are the golden moments we writers all dream about! Happy days 🙂
Love those when they happen
imagining the beauty on the other side of the river!
David in Maine USA
Thanks, David 🙂 Heard its nice over there….
amazing how you show in these lines how negative energy can be channelled for positive use – stone is no longer an object to use to destroy but something to build with. and the imagery is deep and disturbing – vast muddy river…amazon of old pain! strong, beautiful but painful!
Thank you Noel–your comment about stone throwing earlier got me thinking about how to take that negative image and make it into something more positive…. And then I go and muddy it all up with the river image….
I could have made it a clear, sparkling brook, or pleasant little creek, but nooooo–I have to make it all complicated.
If only. Having lived through such a place, what this conjures in my head…
Nelle–hope it didn’t take you somewhere too awful….
Susan….no longer poor Thom. Just lovely.
Thank you Rhonda 🙂 That’s why he puts up with me!
I’m sure it’s more than your lovely words!
“an Amazon of old pain” is a very arresting image. I really like that.
Thank you Jeremy. I love that it popped into my head while I was editing the first time–one of those random gifts from the universe.
That is why writing poetry is an amazing experience. I remembering hearing Sting say once that he was always amazed he could write songs. He would look at a blank piece of paper when he started and later see the work completed (and listen to it) and have no idea where it came from. It is definitely a gift.
Yes, it is. It’s almost magical, how poetry discovers itself. Ohh–who said that? Adrienne Rich? I think?