Froth

I crossed the road in a boat,
When the levies were drowning in asphalt.
You may want your life in parables,
Or take my problems if you want some.
And, like a wage too high,
I see the morning bride,
Boasting of shine through the day,
Toasting to none but itself.
Alike the froth over snow,
Within winter's wicked lore,
The light through sunset will fade away,
As daylight calls it a day.
The night and its mermaids will remain,
As memory of a life kept in pain.
A furrow in the face of my dreams,
A boat I bought last birthday,
But needed a river too, not today.