the mississippi river empties into the gulf

and the gulf enters the sea and so forth,

none of them emptying anything,

all of them carrying yesterday

forever on their white tipped backs,

all of them dragging forward tomorrow.

it is the great circulation

of the earth’s body, like the blood

of the gods, this river in which the past

is always flowing. every water

is the same water coming round.

everyday someone is standing on the edge

of this river, staring into time,

whispering mistakenly:

only here. only now.

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