Green growth laid over my river’s ledge, new water ways around
you can’t take cover under what you discarded or have shelter in a space you wore down.
Afternoons sometimes
and the sun is flattening
Mornings sometimes,
before things are turning
But mostly at dusk
when things wind down
and the sky is squinting,
I claim myself and draw lines
Between the past and what’s coming.
mapping through reasons
somewhere between moving on and forgetting.