Not Even a Footstep

The water wilderness yearns to be wild, no more.

The streets: gone

once flooded with us, 

not the stream

The dam: gone

once a force against,

turns to swim with the current

My rock at the edge of bank: gone, gone, and gone again

once my stepping, sitting, skipping stone

I grew alongside

While rocks don't grow they age

Not even a footstep 

Could rupture these rapids.