Beside Me Is Still Some Water Poem by James McLain

Beside me is still some water; and therein I lay,
sloughing off bark where mossy patches dream.
Funny how time lets dreams float away, down
stream, while the forest moves it in, ever closer.
Soft splashes cover water that drips serendipity,
and it defines our waiting, for something exciting.
And resting inside a hollow shaped spoon am I,
still too large, I hold my breath, while you walk by.
You stop, bend down and hold off my imagination
and being satisfied, you shift the moon around it.