falling out of

What would happen if,
as we walked along the shore rocks, I just fell in?

What if by fell I mean jumped?
Would you follow me down the rabbit hole or ask for help?

And when you asked for help (which I am sure you would)
would you stand there watching me become bubbles

until someone walked by or would you run and yell until
you decided you did all you could?

I could have told you sooner, but I hadn’t then realized
that falling out would come to me as easily as it later would.

It was like a wave, or rather a changing tide
the sky was thick with summers to come

The children dancing closer and closer to the surface
of the river tossed loose stones and beer bottles into the river

Each rock that dammed the shore bursting green with river-salt
and moss like wet velvet and you held me tighter then.

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Roberto F. Santiago