As It Is With All Things

I knelt to stir the river.
my finger touched silt,
leaves, rocks.

reflection.
how do I know
my body did not ripple,

muddy, swirl?
currents started.
unfettered

the quarrel. hear.
water bugs laugh.
rocks screech

the current plagiarises
our songs! trees hold
their sides. snicker,

water cares more about the moon
than any lump lodged in a broken
tree stump. my chastened

finger can not stir
a river. attaches
every voice new.

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