A Tumult Of Water Poem by Leslie Philibert

Water seeks a simple path, thoughtless
lines in the softer ground, a rushing

tumult of water and stones breaking
downwards and creating the face

of the drowning man, someone like this,
a to-be-ended, a lost, a water smacker

liquid runner, a dancer failing to bend
his feet to the moving ground, an unholy wetness

a face forced into a liquid laugh, no answer,
the shock of an obscene ballet

failing to contradict the rain and the salt
and the waves stopless and stopless.