Huraian
A river made of light. A heart learning its code. In The Pixel River, Samuel Ludke steers us through the confluence of wilderness and wire-where rain falls on circuit boards, memories buffer and bloom, and love redraws itself in a thousand bright squares. These poems move like current: glittering, mercurial, carrying driftwood and data alike. One moment we're knee-deep in creek water, the next we're staring into a midnight screen; either way, the reflection stares back-tender, haunted, human.