While hiking through the forest pine
I heard the river song.
Like a siren, it called me so
I made my way through bushes and bracken.
The River Song grew louder.
The chorus of the melodic babble
of water rushing
against rocks,
brushing edges,
of the mud worn shores.
Flowing fast in a calm way.
Frogs croak on the mossy bluff and
chirping crickets hop in the misty spray.
I make my way across the dry spots on the rocks —
dotted along the surging stream.
I put my foot on a slippery one and fall into the
icy stream.
OUCH!
I scuffed up my knees, but the cold water keeps
the pain at ease.
So I pick myself up and keep jumping along.
Humming to the tune of the ole river song.
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