Sun slants across the folded map Paper still warm against your knee Phone gives one buzz by the dry bag Your blue notes hanging over the edge Cottonwoods flicker down the bank Wind lifts the corner once Your thumb runs the crease again Just to check it still holds Let the current tug and turn Let the banks redraw The paper stays, warm in my palm While the river changes shape Your mark holds in the grain If this small thing keeps us found The paper stays Cold spray cracking off the bow Feet set hard on the floorboards Oar blade drops under whitewater Comes up bright in the sun Water braids tight round the rocks Then opens one clean path Map soft at the creases Still clear enough to read Let the current tug and turn Let the banks redraw The paper stays, warm in my palm While the river changes shape Your mark stays where you made it If this small thing keeps us found The paper stays I don’t keep it just because it’s old If it quits doing what we need I let it go But your name still presses the fibers Blue ink feathered through the grain Water keeps revising everything Some things earn their place The paper stays, the paper stays Warm in my palm Banks slip by, the river changes shape Your mark stays where you made it If this small thing keeps us found The paper stays Last light on the cottonwoods River grit in the fold Phone goes quiet by the map The paper stays
