superstition

never cross a river twice
without paying your respects

go down soft
along the riverbank
and reverently touch her
with grateful fingertips
as bowed maples
know to skim
the slipstreams

the butterflies flash
among dogwood blooms
– white tears on soft silt

rivers make you wonder
why we hide from simple love
why we stay away so long

when gentle hearts repent
the river’s existence
is forgiveness enough

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Unholy Imaginings Copyright © by Kat Karney. All Rights Reserved.

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