Rock Hopping

by Max Quayle

I rise early and consider all the day

before me --Bang, I'm on my way...
Pedaling, hustling – chasing the wind
I slow, I am here, my place
I dole out my time, like currency: 5

twenty minute tree climb,

five minute high bough rest
that's when I hear her...
likeathousandwavesallcrashing
At once. 10

Dropping down to solid ground, I eye her:

She winds along in a restless way
But takes a care to bow and sway,
and curl about the rocks out cropping
Flowing clean and never stopping. 15

I leap, moments flashing in the air

Will I make it? is it slick?
Thump. I land, I stand...
I lunge out quick,
Another rock, another perch 20

I wend my way, and pass the day...

Hoprocking, rockhopping
whilst the stream flows,
endless
like my youth. 25