says the river I will retrieve
what was lost
But time I reply it goes
back and forth
That tree you loved?
asks the river
Yes its generous spring blossoming
and its cradle and drape of art
students sketchbooks
on their knees
What do you
know of this, river?
It lives in you
depends on you
as you in me
The river’s face blazed
and I could barely
stand to look into it
but as I stood there
it softened to a blush
and then almost disappeared
How can you not decide?
I asked
The sun said the river
it comes
and it goes