poem

rolling boiling frothy anger
down in the carved out kettle
foam-lipped, rushing
smash and crash! and gurgle
the river flows down
from the highest peak; frozen, calm, tempestuous
through glacial remains and canyons
every wave tip singular
every bubble free
gravity sunk, down to the sea
over sand and muck and stone
waving reeds, green and streaming
a yellow footnote on the day
trampled grass trail down to the shore
agates and quartz and more
bare toes slam against hardness
shouts and glimmers

a stray stick
bouncing down through the rocky maze
should I pick it up?