I Must Go to the Creek Again by Michael G. Smith

I must go to the Creek again.
Again, I will ask only for silence
to hear the riffs
drifting by. Vagrant
and wanderer, the Creek is
captive and conveyor of storm,
its story and futurestory
the tree that falls
into it from its
eroding banks. How many
years to tumbledrum a grain
of sand a mile along its bed?
Alone responsible,
and not, the Creek brings
song to all it can,
Chickaree’s scold
of my innocence
(this a trespass),
eddies in the round rejoining
beginning, voice born into it.
And must I pray? I ask
how to give words to a time
stopped, the Creek creeking.

Gwarlingo Poetry

This new (to me) site is an excellent source of poetry and inspiration. Check it out!

I’m delighted to be included in the Sunday Poem section, and the accompanying photographs are a revelation:

Lisa Elmaleh, Slash Pines Reflected in Pine Glades Lake, Everglades, Florida, silver gelatin print, 2010. (Photo © Lisa Elmaleh via lisaelmaleh.com)‎ 

New England Eyes: Haiga

learning to see
again with New England eyes;
perched like a bird
on a bare branch, empty
milkweed seedpod