Mountain Stream near Stonehouse, New Hampshire

This second poem in the collection was written, I think, with a place I went camping as a Boy Scout in mind.  It is one of the group of poems I identified in the selection as 'Imagist'. After I submitted it, I went back at some point and cleaned it up a bit. There are a couple of lines I will remove today, but the biggest change is a gender change.At the time I wrote most of these poems, I was very much under the influence of feminist poets, especially Adrienne Rich.  My previous reading of poetry had been eclectic to say the least, with William Carlos Williams being the second most influential.  However, for some reason, I tended in these poems to identify the poet as female.  Connecting with my anima?  I don't know.  But now it seems contrived.  In the original, then, where it read 'her', I have replaced it with 'his'.  I obviously was referring to myself when I imagined the plunge into the ever-moving stream. Photo found here.

Purling rivelette running downward
Between pools , those icy keeps.
Running downward , swirling over
Stones made smooth and ledges
Softened under your unceasing
Presence.
Snow water synthesizes purity
of form and motion, swirls and
Gurgles over sand and stone,
But always running  day and night
Always headed downward.


Catch morning sunlight glitters,
Drink midnight darkness,
Absorb all the light into 
Your crystalline nature.  Purified
in icy clarity.


You suck the breath
from swimmer's chest - 
Goose flesh shocked;
Lace icy thongs around 
The swimmer's temples,
And bring him  gasping
Through your surface.
The mirrored clouds scatter
From him   skitter on the waves.


Without ceasing, china ribbon, 
You run down from these snow
Mountains and barren forests -
You run downward
To the sea.