Winding
By Colin Richard
Published in
1 min readJan 27, 2017
Our chef, Rocco, has been stirring for ages, hasn’t looked up once.
Left forward!
Right back!
Brad screams with a smile as we spin through rapids, and this raft guide is having a good time.
A black vortex of silent bats rises indeterminately, wings flapping
its audience stares blankly at the harmony.
An old, infinitely intelligent Pueblo expert winds calculatingly through what it is he knows best, eager to share why.
I notice these movements and patterns
but I am only still learning of which
twists and turns will put me finally at peace.
So when I try to walk straight across the line, it is no wonder my naked feet find cold soil and sharp seeds of pine.
