Another drop, and I’m not thirsty.
Another sandstone day and I’m
In afterthoughts abridging
Creeks I’ve crossed until
Another easy riddle purled
And dimpled hurling past
To miss, and in its vivid laughter
Glints of mirror-hues and
Afternoons, and it’s too lucid still,
Too intimate a dream to break the
Surface for a drink of something
Not so difficult as I imagined.