The Night the River Went for a Walk
One full-moon night the village river gets up on a hundred little legs and walks away. Sai follows its trail of fish across the fields, dances with it under the moon, and carries it home in her pot.
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Night. Sai's village sleeps beside its river. Sai can't sleep.
The river gets up out of its bed, on a hundred little legs.
It walks away east, leaving its bed dry and cracked.
Morning. The village stares at the dry riverbed. Sai sets out after it.
She follows its trail of fish and wet footprints across the fields.
Far out in the fields, under the full moon, the river is dancing.
Sai asks it to come home. It turns its head away.
So Sai dances with it.
At dawn, tired at last, the river pours itself into her pot.
She walks home with the river in her pot.
She pours it back into its bed. The village cheers.
Every full moon since, the village dances on the bank — and the river gets up and joins the line.
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