Crunch Time

Crunch, crunch, crunch
with that and the wild honey drizzle
I take my nourishment
locusts sufficing as sustenance
for life on the river
my belt—just drying out
from the last dip in the Jordan—still secures
camel’s hair cloth to my body
it soon will be soaked again
I see a new compliment of the curious
coming over the rise
some craving the spectacle
others, earnest seekers
the river is here for them
some cry all the way to the bank
their salty tears mingling with the
fresh muddy stream
riding on to a saline terminus
Send them: send tears and sin on to that sea
name them and let them float
to the Dead Sea that you may live
make a full turn
climb back to the sunbaked shore
twirl with joy, done with shame
Turn, turn, turn.

                        —David W. Price, December 2022