a poem or something like it for monday almost afternoon

I can tell things are changing.

Outside, inside, everywhere.

Walking through sketches of branches I had a moment, a few actually, that made me think.

About you, about me, about the honey bee. Just listen. LISTEN.

The river wraps around the branches. And things get muddy. Very muddy.

But where does all this water go?

Don't worry about the mud. It is in the right place.


The tide will change.

And the river flows back to the banks.

The point is, it is not up to us to decide.

It might be up to me but probably gravity.

I never knew how strong a fallen tree could be. Until it fell right in front of me.

Scared the shit out of me!


Things are changing.


And the truth is salty water never tasted good anyway.