“As the ink flows onto the page,
each word creating and tumbling into another,
she wonders aloud to no one in particular,
‘are these sleeping memories
left in the shadows of grief …
writing on and on
this tale and that …
moving my pen across the page ...
as if a bridge to yesterday?'”
a meditative journey 
such gentle musings to match that ‘dip pen’ water shot
As if the passing water is signing its signature to the passing of a moment. But just as the words tumble, the water races on towards a distant sea.