“The River Flows On,” a Vertical Acrylic Painting

On the road to my childhood home is a cornfield, which lies quiet and sleeping over winter. Cutting across the road and edging the field, bordered by a tangled line of trees, flows the tiny Green River. Crossed by a tiny bridge that floods twice a year and has to be replaced nearly as often, it fluctuates from a quiescent trickle to a roiling lake the floods the corn and the cow pasture on its other side. Regardless, it flows on.