Past The Rivers Edge Poem by James McLain

Looking through the leaves,
I sat like stone
waiting for a breeze approached
the sun.
Humid moist and wet the air it was
pungent mushrooms life
is every where.
Naked and afraid most have forgot
as reeds
are parted by the past some have.
Around the tree
the water finds the base
a bubble bursts.
Through the surface
breaks an out stretched hand
It reaches out.
Humid moist and wet it causes death.
The sun is high the light is bright
I pause for breath.