The river
the river
said Heraclitus.
you think
it is the same
you think you know
how time passed
but
this river is not
the river you knelt in.
time passed is time past,
this water
is not that water,
the cool green water
your feet rippled in
that water is far away
and you will never know
the brown leaves
silvery fish shadows
twisting in the foam.
you will only know memories
dredged up
fished out
grabbed
through the sieve.
time passed is time past.
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