Eroded sediments of memory flow

Ebbing gently woven through time

Streams in the cold down my face

Blowing dull smoke from my nostrils

Dainty heat kisses the frost off my nose

Igniting embers on my cheeks

I lower my hands to caress the current

That smooths over the wrinkles in my palms

To taste on my tongue or to wash me clean

But futility the imp cracks the riverbed

With a hundred years’ days’ seconds’ drought

Siphoned away, holding my breath, at a standstill

Frozen in time, suspended in sleep, I stand, still