Metaphorical Quips

I can hear the wind grazing the sidewalk's end.

Where the street turns to wildflowers and grass.

Diverging scenes that simply end, transitions lack.

Amidst that drastic change, lies a river.

A river that bends and turns, and sings to the wind.

That adopts rocks and sticks, waiting to be melded.

Melded into something that requires metaphorical quips.

 

At spring's peak through summer's end

Boats launch in to take the curves as they go, nice and slow.

But sometimes you'll see a change ,

A change from what happens every other day.

Paddling smooth and quick, the water will turn and do tricks.

Rolling and tossing this boat about

And the stomachs within race.

 

At summer's end when these things aren't planned,

The water will turn and do tricks, worthy of metaphorical quips.