This road is bordered
by willows and quaking
aspen shaking light
on shallow water.Stones rest like red
coins in the riverbed.
I cross this river again
and again, bridge afterbridge. It cuts and winds
through cottonwood
groves and pine forests.
Or is it this road that bendsand turns, twisting its way
along a straight-backed
river. This paved road.
Its narrow painted line.









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