You can’t step into the same river twice
and you wouldn’t step into this one at all
to join the flotsam and jetsam, floating along
at fast walking speed – plastic bottles, planks,
green skins of algae mirrored by their own shadow,
here a trail of bubbles as if something small’s
drowned. It would diminish you, this cold river
rippling like muscle along its vast course, squeezing
the narrow land with its coils, it would reduce
you to a raised arm, a head camouflaged
by river brown / grey-blue reflected sky,
to a shout dampened by the water.
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