Friday, November 05, 2010
Spring Runoff
Spring Runoff
Water and rockbed and sunlight--
that’s really all there is to it,
this stream,
unless you add the trees
bending over
like mothers checking the child
asleep in the cradle,
unless you count the birds
making up crazy hymns as they go
as if they were in
a Sunday school competition,
unless you stir in
the sound of the creek itself
as it gurgles its way
on its downward thrust,
carrying with it
the voice of the glacier
where it all started,
the stuff
of many winters
finally released
and having let go
of its stiff armor
now dancing all
the way down,
gyrating like a chorus of fine ladies
who have
pulled off their corsets
and now naked as when they came
are turning and spiraling
so glad at last to be free,
bosoms and thighs flashing
hair flying
Kali gone wild and
come back again.
Dorothy Walters
November 5, 2010
