On that day
all fell from where they stood -
a river in flood,
clearing the debris,
reforming the mud,
upon temporary banks.....
The river stood
flowing, yet not flowing,
mis-understood.
But in its passing,
a motherhood,
of soil, maybe and never to be seen again.
Does the river ever return
to where it was?

What changed.
A decision made.
In a moment, nothing remains the same.
6 months parted,
where we started.
Illusions taken from view
of now,
and I dont understand how.
A story begun,
its characters entwined as one,
patience of masks,
time bound.
Awaiting the question-
clung to promise,
momentary suggestion,
made solid,
for echoes to resound.
what now?

Regret,
like an egret
seeing for fish not taken;
its belly aching.
Regret, a hungry bird.
The egret watching the eggs waking,
never fainting in the wake of the oncoming tide,
to carry the hatchlings seaward.
Above the cliff he sits with arms wide open,
waiting to face the egretful waste.