I’m drawn to the river at flood stage,
compelled to the rushing water
moving trees like match sticks,
plastic bottles, floating toys, oil
and pop cans
connecting me to unknown places
and lives lived miles away--
mementos of someone’s childhood,
a 100 year old oak,
the debris of a careless boater
All rushing down river
to another river’s edge
where someone else,
like me,
stands watching this
fleeting flotilla of our
collective trash and dreams,
a traveling history of life quietly
connecting those who watch
the river at flood stage.
4/25/11
