Stars

I walk beside the river
dark and green as bottle glass
it undulates silently

I scatter stars like breadcrumbs
some stick to the sky like white
bodies on black flypaper

some fall
and I step on them
crack them like snapped branches

some sink in the quiet green
bleed bright tendrils that glow
like little highways connecting fish cities

the moon eats the rest
stars disappearing in its
crescent smile

the last step

the lustrous little leaves cluster
in the still-warm footprint,
lining the edges,
filling the instep as if
to cushion
the already fallen.