Chances are, we will never really understand one another.
Your house, my lane, your god, my altars are myriad, and yet
the rivers tell a story, running thru’ our miles, indifferent
to human greed and creed –
like blood types.
Rivers, trees and skies,
are like common back yards
like shared cousins we have not met, yet.
Like Photographs, and verse,
so infernally alike,
we say we
are, aren’t we ?