Wild Water

by Victoria Doerper

Water rockets
Round boulders
Tight pressed
In pockets of cliff,
Falling heedless
In spume and thunder
Pounding down,
Surging under
Broken limbs,
Bounding up,
Flowing on again
Strong as a silver
Scour of gravel,
Silt sculpting rock,
Building up a mantle
Of remembrance
In deposits along
The further banks,
Signs that once
Water had a wild
Encounter
With constraint
But left behind
Less than what
She kept
And carried
Forward.