Flow

 

I woke from fitful sleep

     one morning last week

Rattled by a dream I could

     barely recall.

 

Half-submerged in a stream

     I hugged an old tree 

While from the bank a woman

     called: "Let go, let go."

 

My grip weakened, then failed,

     My shirt a sodden sail, 

As, smiling, I surrendered

     to the pitiless flow.