Feel the sway movement of the car
fix gaze, imagine floating
hairy knuckles, black hair
hit white hard as you can
settle on green, quietly finding your place.
Cold deep water. Mud underneath.
Reeds grow along the jetty.
I am the river. I see it all. Life and death and everything inbetween.
I can’t stay still, flow is my thing.
Writer’s Notebook – a series of posts releasing unfinished fragments into the world. Recognising the value in sharing.