Between The Trees And Their Reflection

a pool where the water

ran like liquid amber

collecting and spinning

and pouring forth,

honeyed and cool.

 

i stood on a rock above you

ran my hands through hair

which knotted, collecting in

twisted trails of yellowish strands.

 

my bare feet clung to the cool stone

hugging the roughly curved surface

shoulders width apart, in the stance

of some half-wild creature

with back curved and shoulders

hunched.

 

i stared down into the twisting eddies

of the rapids, the waterfall, plunging

barely two foot into the next bowl

spinning softly before plunging down

again and again, each pool a little

different from the last. a little bigger,

a little deeper.

 

i stepped forwards, balancing like a dog

on the front of my feet. you weren’t watching,

bending over a pool to see a brownish sliver

darting beneath a pebble. i crouched on the edge

of the rock, almost vertical, skin clinging to stone.

 

i stared up into the dark green, sandwiched

between canopy and river, between the trees

and their reflection. below me my own reflection

wobbled in the churned water. she stared out

of a world all green and brown, her face

melting into the ripples and moss-cloaked stones.

as much a part of that damp and earthy world

as the spilling amber river which gave it life.