A sudden rise,

In the babbling whitewater,

Runs backwards,

And defies,

The established,

Instability.

Jets spray,

Tourists paddle,

A bear,

Straddles a boulder,

Waiting for trout,

To breach,

Into its open snout,

If it can reach.

The inflatable raft,

Glides over,

The aerated stream,

Rapids,

And drop-offs,

Turning with the bends,

Instead of against them,

Even when they seem to be going,

No place,

It’s not a race,

Just a vacation.