The Brave

seeing rainbows in oil spattered water
mesmerised by moss on which she treads
spying snails amongst organic matter
poisonous, she eschews them all

mushrooms beckon; she doesn't touch -
phantoms find her with little push
eyes down, head bowed
trudging trudging through the sludge

evading gnarls that grip her
clump clump clump, moving steady
following the stream to the river,
rainbows merge, oceanic surrender
delivered.