Old River and Leaves of Memory

Old River And Leaves Of Memory Rivers do not talk but to themselves Turn cold around the bend Enter unknown waters by the delta mouth Leaves take a ride first on the wind Inevitably end up in river beds Sleep forever comforted in their own blankets Made of themselves Accumulate in staggering numbers Covered up one over the other crunchy warm Rivers do not talk to them There are too many to learn their names When you get old things turn out that way And leaves forget from where they came