Overread at Table 3: Poem of the Day: Crossing the Stream

One night full of bifurcated dreams:
the flowing streams the water over pebbles of so many colours,
like a mad painter's palate, the slate greys and bone whites and ocean hue blues,
these stones that you walk across
with your bare feet, your pigeon toes
grasping and unclasping,
the water up to your ankles now and the
summer sunlight trickling through the leaves
of the limbs of the trees on the bank of the other side
of the stream, hands out to
each side, airplane-balance in
grounded flight, tilting only slightly as you
balance and bounce to the rhythm of the
laughter of the water over these stones,
and minnows tickle your toes
and then you reach the grass, a mop of
tasseled hair atop the mudslope, where the roots
of these trees become your rope ladder
to pull yourself out of the stream
and into the vast new world
that awaits your exploration.




















MR
2017-0525