| |
|
Some rivers rush to the sea,
They push and tumble and fall.
But the Everglades is a river
with no hurry in her at all.
Soaking the cypress
that grows so tall;
nursing a frog,
so quiet and small;
she flows but a mile
in the course of a day,
with plenty of time
to think on the way.
But how can she cope
with the acres of corn
and sorrowful cities that drain her?
With hunters and tourists and levees
that chain and stain and pain her?
Does the half of her that's left
think only of the past?
Or does she think of her future
and how long it will last?
Some rivers rush to the sea.
They push and tumble and fall.
But the Everglades is a river
with no hurry in her at all.
From Sawgrass Poems (Harcourt Brace, 1996)
Used here with permission.
|
Frank Asch (1946 - 2022) was an author and illustrator who wrote in almost every category of children's literature, including poetry, concept books, juvenile nonfiction, and children's novels. His first picture book, George's Store, (McGraw-Hill) was published in 1968. After graduating from Cooper Union in 1969 with a Bachelor of Fine Arts, Frank travelled widely in the U.S. and abroad, taught public school in India and in a Montessori school in the U.S., and conducted art, writing, puppetry, and creative dramatics workshops for children all over the country. Learn more about him at https://frankaschbooks.com/.
    
|
|
|
There are no comments for this poem yet.
|
|
|
My Cart 
