Right at the base of a short waterfall under the rusted green bridge
Stands The boulder, firm, in the rushing steam
White waters gushing through
Forcing there way around the obstruction
Defiant to be stopped
Glazing the top of the boulder with shinny glass
Changing it's apparent color
Dark brown rock turned black
The boulder remains steadily in place
Unmoved
Untouched
Temporarily unaffected
And some day in the far future
When days grow shorter
And nights are colder
When I'm old and worn
When the once busy bridge crumbles
When the cracked side walks grow over with green
The giant boulder will be but a tiny rock
Washing downstream
Rushing through the currents
Racing down the winding riverbed
Only to be just a distant memory of what
once was
