The slip-slop
slide and slosh
the nakedness
of water-children,
Slipping school,
slipping uniform,
running classes，
casting aside
weeds of green;
cascading into
carefree clarities.
Always leave
empty handed，
a melody of waters,
by un-tuned fingers
playing
hard stops of rocks:
Where is world's end？
a gurgling grin
innocently asks.