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  • Remember the first time we saw the sun set here?
    You bent forward, toward the water, breathing in deeply.
    We touched arms, elbows, shoulders,
    And then leaned back
    into the ease of just sitting on the shore.
    It was October
    The sun teased the water,
    Irridescence swept across the surface of the river,
    ~~~~~swept~~~~~~
    ~~right into me. My mind, my mouth, my heart.
    A swath of glistening eveningshine mov~d across the surface,
    and gently closed my eyes.
    ...let go, let go, let go...

    I turned my head slowly and looked out toward the weir in mid-river
    Cormorants, gulls,
    Ospreys circling high over the pointed edges of wooden sticks and metal.
    The place.
    A huge, adult bald eagle glided low over the tree,
    Heading out toward the middle of the river
    And made straight for the weir.

    A sun-kissed day.
    I remember that day we rowed out to the weir,
    Mom's ashes in the back of our kayak.
    Her lap-robe, her paintbrushes, her necklace.
    Those little bracelets that clinked every time she drew her brush across a canvas...
    ...and another streak of beauty found its place.

    Every day her markers set in different spots.
    The air is never the same.
    The sun paints the sky.
    The birds, the wind, the waves.
    An endless array.

    Otters swim near the bank...
    Their backs glimmer,
    Wet and shining.
    Our dinghy, Wee Otter, rests in the sand.
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