When I reach for the river along this page
and bend its colors under my fingers,
I never always know exactly where
we are flowing, and I’m even a little
fearful that as we are moving,
my mind will soothingly slow
from the lull of the water
and lose control of the paths
these fingers paint despite
feeble attempts to grasp any failing
understanding of the vibrant trails end.
– Carl Colvin
Carl Colvin is a writer, editor, oboist, and reedmaker residing with his wife and animals in the southwest Ohio countryside.