Standing on
     the very sands of time
The river is the rhyme
the Rhine is the grind
     the instrument of time
A tool engulfing my ankles and toes
     the very essence of
     Wade wading in the waters
     Shins wet

Boulders crack, wedges went away
     cascading stones tear away
Grind ground to dust and sand
     The liquid river of late, Yes
     The ice river a glacier clearly past
More tools of time come to bear
     Mere entropy made evident
     in wind and rain, freezing and thawing,
     Like teeth on a fine wheel
     or burrs on a grindstone
     wrought slowly o’er the landscape
     scraping and rending
     O’er out o’er
     Until

A beach is formed
     against this jetty of quarry stone
     shills and stones
     pebbles and riverglass
     and sand
     proof of the past passing through
     endlessly

With these thoughts
     held lightly in my
     rearward attention
My left hand filled
     with stones that with skill
     will soon be skipping my thrill
     on the Rhine
     skips from two to nine
     I will
Bending with this bend
     in this river that wends
     its way down its valley
     I rally
     Turn two skips to four
     And soon four is now five
Five I am certain
     Six perhaps on that
     one stone that caught a wave
     the wind
     a curve
     a dance
     and a landing of 3,4, 5,..6?
     7?
     8, perhaps 9?
Nein, not nine on the Rhine
     For cert five I can claim
     mine is the name
     of Five Skips Over the Rhine
     while time banked precious sand
     against a hand made shore