River

. . . 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.

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