I think good things come from the south
unimpeded by my demands about what is necessary
or what will serve.
The river delta is in the south.
I feel its urge,
impossibly ascending from subterranean origins.
I place obstacles in the way
but the river is a strong god. You
will never coerce the river.
In its brown water, something
brushes against us, a branch,
or was it living? It is gone.
The river takes everything.