Water spills through boulders,
in no hurry to fill the watering hole below.
Fallen trees lean in,
stretching for a taste
of the cool liquid,
as if it could replenish their vitality,
stand them back up to their old grandeur.
Everywhere around them
humans splash in the pool
formed by the rocks,
causing a raucous,
their coolers, inflatable tubes, towels, beer cans, wrappers, bits of old food,
lay spread,
marring the landscape.
Do the fallen trees hate disrespect,
or are they satisfied knowing that, one day,
the human epidemic
will die.