Well in that case

            I thought of the river

            Roiling around its impediments.

            How many times had

            It smashed its banks

            In frustration?  So I pulled

            The curtain to look

            At the mountains.

            Existence might not be

            All that it should

            But I recently

            Saw the cracks

            From the last quake --

            Stood astraddle

            Its current stillness.

            That afternoon

            While sipping espresso

            I refused to look at the curtain's flutter

            Desiring instead

            To see what

            Was left

            Of determination.