When the river sets in deep it turns
The valley steep
And I think I am bent between stones.

My mind is a holler and
I find no peace in solitude.

Stand with me in my double vision
I see clear what is missing
Inside a carton or two.

Bend and twist like a willow
Beside the river bed. Sultry and
Ancient the wind passing a gentle
Caress.

A silent crow lands softly in the tree
It’s eyes black and mysterious
And a story untold to be.