Like those who arrive at a new place,

The river is a thief.

Uprooting the soil along the banks,

Underneath the road,

It reclaims its wash.

Growing stronger with ice floats and snow melts,

Come back, the river says, to who you are.

I hunker down for the winter and like Virginia,

I glaze over the shades of gray between the hours.

The heat of the flames makes me hope the thief wins.