Confluence

Looking out across the broadwater,
The confluence of to rivers in

Their own right, two entities

That must, at some point,

Yield to become one, to become

Something greater than they were

As they tumble to the finality

Of the sea, that salty embrace.

Some rivers take many miles

To merge, their distinct waters

Run alongside each other,

Sharing banks but little more

Turbid and clear standing off

A roiling line at their interface.

Here life goes on atop the waters

Around, the boats burble and the

Homes sit squat, all white and

Filled with a vacant wealth.

Appearances maintan and the

Water riffles in the breeze.