Rivers are Whispering a Name

a glance – at a running river running away downstream running quickly softly lightly like a whisper from the wind running through branches cold as bones and winter’s windy whispers a glance – that grows a soul and becomes a long life never read spent running through a river running away with it away from a tear trapped in a glance running infinitely until the glance becomes a trinket on her necklace until the running river freezes over the glancing eye catching whispers and glances hanging from her neck. a glance – that grips your gray heart dusts it off and rinses it in the running river then places it back in your cold ribs broken branches cold as bones. a glance – that gives you wings, holds your hand, and takes you around the world in .8 seconds then drops you fluttering down dancing in the whispers like a snowflake small cold and light as the R that rolls off your tongue into the whispers and the running river, the weightless W floating from your chapped lips carrying an N that hums and hides away in the whispers running in the river running between you.

Image Credit: Shout by Maher A. Housn

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