And here you lie, but find no rest
Plucked from your watery bed.
You did not ask to be taken, held.
Together we listened, as one so gentle soothed the spirals.
He too, is gone.
Beneath eddies, neither mine nor yours, belonging to that force we cannot explain but must simply accept, you waited.
Fingertips graze striations.
You were never mine, I know, even as I carry your weight.
Do you miss the endless flow that gave you shape?
Does the river miss your tiny form?