A brief poem

I Am A River

I am a river, I move

Sometimes I have waves, I thrust!

Things fall into me

And sometimes I am done with things.

I move!

I am a river, I change

And am changed

Because that’s what rivers do.

Somewhere around here, I have a photo of the acequia madre, all dry and with the decaying concrete structures. One of the first photos I took. Unfortunately, I was a little slow on the uptake as to storing photos.