Every rock
Jostling rushing tide
Kissing stones
Remorseless
A river turns into a flood
Bears our love away
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Life From A Park Bench 
The sadness in the last two lines is palpable. I am thinking about the title though..
Yes, I’m thinking about the title, too…
We, human beings, are as small as the ants in front of the wrath of nature, like flood…