There’s a shifting of power
within the rivers down under surface.
Where waters of no visibility present
a flotilla of movable parts making their
way downstream with the occasional
restriction in the pathway to the ocean.
Portions of land, homes, docks
and various twisted debris move in silence
and unbalanced order. Trees tumble and
roll. Branches, fences, car parts and
mailboxes, all things once securely fastened
now slip below the surface. Even lost
souls, some long forgotten, others new to the flow.
The river judges nothing. It is
impartial to the highway it creates.