Current, a poem

The wind in my hair
On my face
In my skirt

People pass by like the river beyond
The water breaks without pause on an island upstream

I am an island in a river of people.
Some glance, but none pause in their relentless move forward.
A dog sniffs at my shoe.
He is pulled away.
The owner apologizes,
        desperate not to intrude,
        to have no effect on my life.

But the dog knows
We are all moved along by the same current.

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