is more of a creek,
covered in yellow leaves and rotting branches
that staunch the flow like a bandage over blood.
The river in the woods
probably used to rush
like its brothers farther north, shrieking
against the mossy rocks, egotistical with snow runoff.
The river in the woods
trickles quietly through the night
and the moon watches with heavy-lidded eyes
as the sticks of the trees bathe in neverending light.
Posted in response to the challenge River.
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