River Afire

A dream, a memory, a song, a dance, a bedtime story from her childhood or perhaps a prayer from her Sunday morning prayers in the church across from this crazy river. It was on one of those Sunday mornings when Agee took her by her hand and led her to the clover patch by the lake - on the Catalina side - gave her fodder for confessions. Agee moved away the next day to the West Coast and that was fine with her. He was a simple guilty pleasure and a gentle guide through the gates of innocence.