a river runs through it
Jul 15, 2015
Big Sandy River, 2015
To love without knowing how to love wounds the person we love. Thich Nhat Hanh said that. Or something like it.
I sat on the river bank this morning. Before the fog had a chance to lift into the sky. Wondering how many people I’ve wounded. Because I didn’t love them right. Because I didn’t know how to. Even though I thought I did.
A crane swept by. A long-necked, dinosaur-looking bird. Pa says it’s the only one that lives here. The only one that ever has. I watched it follow the river, out of sight.
The Tug Fork of the Big Sandy. The first place I was ever from.
