I’m just a subaqueous dune in the bed

of a river, loose sand waterworn into

playful mounds and ridges. I love it

when lovers leave ripple marks

on my continental slopes, dissipate

large amounts of energy suspending

and redistributing my bottom sediment.

I love the fish too, how they linger in

the delicate confines of my body, ready

to bite. Fisherman probe my every nook

and cranny looking for “the one,”

using their multiple rod holders to wiggle

blood baits upstream. I am muddy and full

of slime-rocks. Pillage my resources. I don’t

mind. Formed by wind, water, and time,

I’m an artery of the dying earth,

the marrow of human civilization,

what connects lands, lakes, and sea.