Then, a dive, deep, Under the carving current, Starving for fish pickings
Wide wings glide,Held up in the streaming wild,Tumult below, ahead.
And in that whim Of flattened, fattened ocean, A journey started.
But rushing caught meRushing from spring to sea,A rushing whim to see.
The river is lost In fluid grey ghosting Between earth and sky.
Show me red In waves across the hillside Regarded in moments.
Mist trickles over The hillsides to gather within Deep smokey valleys.
Street lights warped by Ripples collaborating With growing puddles.
I saw a cloud, then It moved and muttered in time With their beating wings.
Moon-spark glittering Patterned against the milky arc Nestled amid the night.