It was one year ago when the river last appeared.
Today a small group of people relax by its muddy shore,
their dogs jumping in and paddling to a chorus of bubbling feeder streams.

Standing in the shadows nearby,

Dreams bear their own wisdom, and in time some dreamers
strive to bring them into the waking world...

until the group disappears like smoke,
leaving behind a gray sweater.

But how can this be,
if the mind can orbit
only colors the brain
already contains?