The River

Ride, then name the river that runs

through your life

carry no grief for the passing years

time just does its job, as do you.

No day like another

no breath like those before,

everything glides out of sight

remembered, foreseen, impossible

to hold longer than a heartbeat.

That river’s had some wicked turns

not to mention the rapids and rocks.

Keep riding it, no matter what—

and when it slows a bit and lets you

drift, calm in its quiet lilt,

rejoice in this moment

this flash

this now