when the water is dirty
there is dirt.
something upstream
was stirred.
a careless boot,
a passing storm,
a stone turned over.
the river does not
explain itself.
it just carries
what has been loosened.
some will say
the water lies.
some will swear
nothing is there.
the current whispers,
banks remember in silence.
time lets truth flow.
silt settles softly,
layers of the past
drift away.
what was lost returns.
© 2026 Corvalya