Poet of the River (july 27 1994 / California, but move around a lot.)

Water running in a steady stream
Flowing over the polished white and brown stones.
The stream is old, its waters cold, the flow running steadily.
A rock falls in, Its journey begins,
As it is calmly washed away.
As rules abide, and ripples collide,
To play their attuned melody.