River

While I sit this morning in the woods
listening to the river waters
speak
and
breath
with an effervescent hazy blue
as they fall through
the waterways built with concrete gray and haggard
with scattered rocks staggered
upon the shoreline
until it meets the pathways and grass,

I draw lines in the damp earth after a search
for the flora-less lesion where only dirt and mud
expose themselves to the above.

I compose to myself in my humming something
musical, rhythmic, my own breath in
vapors
and
solids
much more gray but much less blue
splitting my vision into
halves that interrupt my line-drawing.