Posts Tagged ‘Brook’

Reasoning Behind a Field Trip

Posted: December 2, 1992 in Poetry
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I go to Painted Cave
not to see the pictures
which aren’t easy to see,
but just to hunt for frogs
and watch the creek flow.

Painted Cave is not just
a hole in a rock of fissures;
you can feel the presence
of paintings in the logs
that lie in the brook below.

On a Brook

Posted: April 8, 1992 in Poetry
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On coming to a brook I think I’ll find
A way across from rock to slip’ry rock.
The gaps between are wide and hard to time
When jumping ‘cause they’re just too far to walk.
My strides are longer with the nerve to leap;
A sure-foot method always startles me.
Even though I am not the one to creep
From stone to stone, then on a fallen tree.
The brook is lovely, dark and deep in those
Odd places where stones sit with mossy hair.
To run across, split seconds’ grip with toes?
To plot and place my soles with ginger care?
Still no one minded the time that I took
To doff my shoes and socks to wade the brook.

A Brook

Posted: April 6, 1991 in Poetry
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flows talking to itself,
deciding which way to go
and whether to meander
fast or fall slow,
doing leaf-laundry
upon the jumping stones.