My Stream

Step over
Gray, twisted, steel cable
Or crawl under
Rabbit scampers
On trail ahead
Escaping
Late for nothing

Grass seed drifts
In through lace holes
Encroaching blackberry
Snags, socks, skin, shorts
And is kicked away

Narrowing path
Closes in
Quiet “plurp” as
Bullfrog leaps
From pond lily
In the sun

Path twists
Around and over
Root and trunk
As trail dirt
Darkens
In deepening
Shadow

Stream voice
Calls out a cool
Liquid beckoning
As footsteps
Quicken in the
Choking summer heat

Frayed, bleached rope
Hangs still
Over deep, clear
Green eddying pool
Lapping, tickling
Brown sandstone bank

Staring to heaven
Shoulder blades  settling
Into sand
As friendly water
Sings away cares
Of life


Ken Goree