Do They Have Flowers in Starbucks?

I sat on the bank of the Middle Fork, My line cast in the shimmering pool, Like hopes thrown casually into the future. I thought about how truth, slippery and elusive, Was a lot like the trout I never caught.

Chains of routine bind, Dreams of wild, open skies call, Soul yearns to break free. - LFB + AI

River winds its course, Life’s push and pull shape its path, Flowing to the sea. - LFB + AI