the faint form of a nymph in a cloud
a quick look, a shiver
the ruffle of the shroud
for rivers rolled spent a life running
from oceans to mountains
all the while knowing-
locked deep in ice, thawed by the sun
a continuum among-
a covenant of life but with a price,
all known and paid forward for the next
might lines continue past last breaths;
all the while the Grand collector sits
on perch waiting ,on which that to pick-
to rise back up into the stars, to fly
as bodies sink and shrink up for slight while;
beds of rivers sleep but none
but on those tracks so many feet have come (to be washed).