Early Morning on the Delaware River, September. In the after, there were dreams–and lies.We stood together–and apart, divisions growingas the wind asked why ~to a silent blue sky~ I gaze–but birdsong floats in a melodyof light and shadows. Heretime never stops,as past and future merge, and an eagle soarsover my head, into tomorrow. My poem […]

Even When Time Stops, the River Flows On