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Stationary, stuck in the place on which
it landed. After a rockslide
and the dust has settled, the boulder
will not budge. There it lies.
Immobile. Until the rains come. Don’t try to push
the river upstream. Water will always flow
to the lowest point that it can reach.
Even then it seeps down
into the ground. Allow the river
to flow freely. Let it carry you
into the glassy tongue that flows, green
and shimmering. Narrowing into
the shape of a V as it feed into the rapids,
dropping before rising, cresting. Curling back
into itself, the wave dances. The river can flow upstream
if it chooses; no boulder will stay in place forever.
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