Erosion

The sound of tinkling riffles

happy to encounter rocks

and undermine mountains

muffled the damage,

masked the scoured river bed.

A Bubbling hot spring,

an open wound, oozed under

sparkling, leaping, dancing waters;

erupted in the depths; spewed

acid and caustic wreckage.

How unhappy now are we

who could only hear the

music of your frothing current

faintly aware, too far away

to reach, stanch the flow below

of despair too deep for tears.

Fame creates distance among us

as does unutterable pain.

RIP, Robin Williams

Sybilla August 11, 2014