I rarely walk beyond that tree
That is home to birds —
And air — too close
To the rotting riverbank.
I’ve tried holding
The tree — hands uncertain—
Taking a step —only one —
A test of courage —
A test of foolishness.
Even at flood height
The water invites —
And seems — at times —
To flow in reverse — back
Up between its banks —
I follow from here.
