Where the Currents Meet
Two paths running beside the water,
each one carrying its own track,
its own way of moving through the day.
The banks rise and fall in slow gradients,
reeds leaning toward the channel
as if answering something in the flow.
Across the way,
a figure walks the opposite shore,
coat shifting in the breeze,
steps steady, unhurried,
as though the distance between you
were simply part of the landscape.
Clouds drift low,
their shadows sliding over the surface,
breaking and reforming
with no need for decision.
You follow the curve of the river,
the path narrowing,
stones clicking underfoot,
the air brightening where the water widens.
For a moment,
both banks seem level with each other—
each side continuing its line
as the water straightens between them.
.