BY TIM ORNELAS

Friendship is an ever-moving river,

Banked in forgotten memories. 

And no spring knows what it travels over.

There’s a hundred things I can’t remember,

Buried coins we can’t find easily:

Friendship is an ever-moving river. 

You said hello two years ago, but there’s

More than two before this goodbye, it seems,

And no spring knows what it traveled over.

Past rocky hills, carving canyon, timber

Lines that fade while it downward flees,

Friendship is an ever-moving river.

It’s quick and sudden change, heartbreak, laughter,

Now a slow stretch filled with grief —

And no spring knows what it must travel over.

We wish dams stopped all change, but then never

Would we find where it turns into the sea. 

Friendship is an ever-moving river,

And no spring knows what it travels over.