So placid, its harmonious fluidity;
it seems almost still in the morning haze,
but an eddy near the shoreline
betrays its movement.
Leaves glance and lazily spin
until their pace quickens
as the stream rolls like a silk blouse
over smooth stones.
Around the bend
a more busy visage marks its pace
as it washes a branch from the shore
and tosses it in a cascade of white
where the mist is caught in spectrums of light.
Away from the falls the same fickle flow
once again lazily slips into a sleepy pond
where the haze from a distant campfire
Craig Cornish, October 9, 2013
For Nette Onclaud's Groove It Contest
Genre - Jazz