CONFLUENCE TAPER Words Blaine Peetso unlight hit the face of my face, searching for old ways to make me new again. A lone prayer danced on four winds toward the distant start of a supine sky, only to drift toward the river when it got there. There were no pillows strung between the canyon walls, no sudden moment of clarity. Just aspen colony whispers and a trout’s brief asphyxiation, glinting in suspension, like a lost dream hinting at the limits of solitude. S • RIGHT • Fall in the Desert, sketch 2023 Ink on paper 5” X 7½” Artwork: Richard Harrington 034 THE FLYFISH JOURNAL
The Flyfish Journal The Flyfish Journal 15.4: Page 32
