i take hikes that give me the credibility of a globetrotter.
i hover over waters in a movement reminiscent of activity in Genesis.
my exploration is not of the unknown,
but a search for the lost treasure.
the treasure is the knowledge of culture lost,
through the absence of the appreciative.

dried wells sing songs of water past,
past but only seasonal.
for every year at least for one month
we care to take breaks from long hikes
to simply consider the water past.



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