Soul Mountain # 15

River Spirit

While I sit on this rock in the river
and write, a fisherman casts his reel
from the opposite bank. I look up
and we exchange smiles. Has he guessed
how I'd almost entered the body
of my younger self, long dark hair flowing
over slender shoulders, shifting back and forth
on my perch to claim the full scope
of river views: Upstream so I can see
what's coming, then downstream to measure
the liquid speed of time. A turn of the head
and thirty years have passed.