|Mississippi River above Lock & Dam No. 1.|
I noticed his curved spine. He surveyed the precipice. The anise scent of Black-eyed Susan and the tannic odor of the oak savanna filled his senses.
I imagined this river scene was the gently flowing backdrop to the memories flooding his mind.
Two feet rooted like buckthorn, he swayed like a blade of prairie grass for quite some time, rotating his head to drink in the panorama.
When finally he turned to leave, it was a bittersweet recognition. We both knew this was his last memory of this particular bend in the river. A once gaping future had collapsed to moments.
He crossed my path. I watched him recede. Moments later I took this picture.