. . . Once a year we meet
the cousins from another country.
We concoct magical reunions
oceans from reality.
The course of the water eludes
sight and sense, forces us to imagine
what lies beyond.
We know somehow
the future drifts in the river . . .
–excerpt from “River” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective/purple flag, 2015). First published in Journal.