Little Rivers by Devin Pavlischak/ November 22nd, 2015 ©

The river was home, for it was abandoned.

It’s an undaunted resource, given to bodies alike.

A duck lands near, watching for hunters.

Clouds gather overhead, when rain falls.

What are they chasing?

When does the river run dry?

By a simple shove, some little movement.

Led by the strait, as little rivers.

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