April 29, 2020
One more and the fish is mine. Long river winding to its unending mouth in perpetual approach dives my heart to an unexpected realization. Such as I'm prone to impulsive behaviors I'm surprised at myself but gratified that I might've learned something new. This point marks my place. I don't know how else to mark it. Can a river take me so far that I can forget the origin, the mouth? No. It's always there, always approaching. I'm beset by the irony of fate that's facing me down. Is it an enemy or friend? Is it past or the future?