Not flows. Runs—watery
knees high, arms pumping,
breath steady and sure.
Not the whole river.
That would scare people.
This is a big, kind-hearted
river. Splashy and reflecting
light, this river loves
to mix with people—sad
so often, full of discontent.
That’s what their big
brain-to-body ratio achieves.
The river splashes them
as it runs by, as if
they were little kids
playing with squirt guns
on a stifling August day.
What could be more fun
than to dash shrieking
around the yard, playing
a game you want to lose,
since losing means
you wind up soaking
wet and cool, dripping
and laughing? The river
loves to make us feel
that way.