Oh Allyn what
a state we're in.
how every drip and
gush is owed you.
eddies rushing,
overflowed
with water new,
are carving paths
through, yearning
just to wildly run
the banks as you do.
rolling boulders,
sounding like a
sunken drum too,
pounding down
by roiling fathoms,
all as one you wait
for none, and on
forever you
continue.