instead it just hangs there
a poem shares no secrets
rather confides & confesses
leaving in its wake
no unsolved mysteries
after the river receded
so did the mysteries
it once carried
I used to confess my sins
but there were far too many to count
and after a time I swore
allegiance to seeking only truth
once the river pulled back
I counted the pieces left behind
picking up one here & there
the pieces I kept in a satchel
hanging somewhere
I could easily retrieve
but I left them there undisturbed
if ever I wanted to
I could open & look inside
that satchel hanging somewhere
june two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
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