The Mouth of the River

[adalger]

Bobbing about in the turbulent river,
Tossed like a twig by the white-foaming spray,
Vainly I hope it will safely deliver
Shoreward my body, and hopelessly pray.

Beaten on boulders that jut like incisors
Out from the gum line of riverbed mud,
Threaten to rend me, demonic divisors
Mocking my effort to weather the flood,

Battered and crushed, I surrender and, floating,
Somehow avoid going under to drown.
Bruised but not broken, I sit here -- still gloating:
River, you choked, couldn't swallow me down!