sometimes i watch the river for hours
sometimes i watch the river for hours
the steady flow
imagining all the parts of us
it carries in its currents
how some of that water
used to be inside you and me
how when you turn on your tap
to take that life-giving sip
its the same water that
crashed onto a stormy shore
how my great grandmother’s
fears of loneliness and rage
were made of the same water
how my grandmother’s
cool lemonade on a hot day
was the same water, too
our water holds us together
keeps our blood flowing,
our hearts beating,
sweat pouring,
it’s alive with us
what stories does the water hold?
can you remember?
