these bits and pieces from some other place
of here and there we often leave no trace
for our delusions, the journey moved us
forward. along the banks of it we haunt
as knitted caps and the other parts go
into the trees, of leaves, the scent of thee
breath in the decay, the days, we betray
of barking dogs and the hawks overhead
hunting along the river a new love
for now, after the flood, the sun above