The river was a compromise.
Like scent, the colour slid, initially.
Camera film camouflaged it all before
it blossomed into thick tea-green.
A bee-eater, a monitor.
Given time, the body, water-born, resists
the pull of land. You spread your mind
like wings of a water crow, steady yourself, let go.
— from Juniper Volume 8, Issue 1