Ten years ago I overflowed
Full of lust, and wonder, and myself.
You rushed down with spring melt
And we were born
Seeing only far behind
Where we merged and wandered.
If every seven years our bodies
Are replaced completely,
I wonder whether waters
Know when they cease to be a stream
And have become the sea?
As droplets’ paths diverge
Do they remember
being a river
—Jason Y. Sproul copyright 2013-2016