The river flows
The river bends
Don’t know where
It begins or ends
The purples and yellows
Stick out from the greens
Don’t know the way
But I have the means
They pass on foot
They pass on wheels
Don’t know what to think
But I know how it feels
A greeting, a shout
A whistle, a cry
I know the sounds
But I don’t know why
Don’t know what’s next
But I like it that way
Don’t know about tomorrow
So I’ll live for today
Where does it come from?
Where does it go?
The truth of course is
I really don’t know
Eugene, Oregon
Mike Margolies 