When summers warmth heats the streets and i can feel the burn of the sun on my skin.
I long for the river from where i grew up.
When concrete is common and people are everywhere, the river calls my name with its cool, welcoming breathe, pulling me home to the country.
Where the only sounds you hear and the roar of the freight trains and the rustle of the trees.
When the sun is high in the sky,
Burning holes through my reality,
My mind takes me home to the familiar smell of fish and The rivers always open arms.
When i think back, the river has always remained.
Giving me some of the best memories, which i wouldn't trade for the world.
I'm older now,
But the river always wants me back,
Gently reminding me,
I was raised by the river, so I will die by the river.
