My deadly stream runs
across your cold, tired feet
Flowing gracefully into the unknown
Another body to retain me
Perhaps an end
with algaed leaves & dying grass
or old stones & bilobed sassafras
Do you follow me
if we never find out?
Do you try to plummet
as the pebble
into something plummetless?
Do you softly complain
of the hallowed mystery?
If there be an abrubt end
or an everlasting adventure
The risk is yours
and that's the clincher