Rushing, swirling, frothing
Dark pooling forced into brilliance
by necks of rock
Fumbling, clumsy, seeking connection with my companion.
How am I normally
When I am alone?
I am seeking her and how she is experiencing this water falling.
My dog whines for motion
I wish the sun had shone for us
I wish that man had not trampled the far side
taken violent machines and saws to the forest
and poured their concrete into barriered
human ways since my last visit,
for now the fae scream out their protest at this invasion
Crowded on the very edge,
Raw the presence of man.
I feel like screaming too.
We scream. Drowned out and taken downstream.
Evicted from the forest, but river always remains untouchable
Need to come again in summer shine
and see their ardent building
bringing back to green
to water sparkle and balance
to dip and immerse completely in this rushing by.
Kat Robertson. March 2018.