Accustomed

I’ve become accustomed to the river.
It’s huge, sluggish self, drifting without effort
Without obvious motion.
Serene and quiet.
Reflecting forest and sky.

At least twice a day, I amble down the pathway to its banks.
To sit.
To reflect.
To throw sticks for the neighbor’s dogs.

To gather up the colors of the sunset over the waters.
And take them home with me.