the river's
cooler than the air,
but not as clear.
the dirty darkness might be
a little heavy in your lungs.
rivers were always
for crossing and everyone does,
i wonder what mine is like.

(have you heard the sound
of a star exploding,
because i think it
could be magnificent.)

white cracked like toothpicks
between his powerful jaws;
stuck in his teeth like them too.
he didn't mind because that reddish
life was warm as it went down
his throat. brown feathers lay
crushed under his paws.

(i heard it's like sleeping,
only the dreams are better
and the nightmares are worse.)

autumn holds more significance
than it should. after all,
new leaves arrive every year.
consider the ancient oak
that stood tall for years, but
withers in the summer heat,
finally falls across

rivers that were always
for crossing, and i will someday,
smiling. my house and father
are on the other side.
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