Monday, July 07, 2014
Water Shed--poem by Larry Robinson
Water Shed
The green expanse of duck weed
Parts and there he sits,
Proud - or so I imagine -
In all his feathered irridescence,
Shedding water with neither thought nor effort.
The late Spring rains
Fall on Sonoma Mountain and English Hill,
Dancing down the Laguna and Atascadero Creek.
So Wintergreen becomes Summergold.
But where are the salmon, the steelhead,
The pronghorn and the grizzly?
There is so much for us to grieve now,
So much lost that we will never see again.
And yet so much still arising
That we have only begun to dream.
Can we shed despair
As we shed our tears
And see with clearer eyes
The shining form just now emerging?
- Larry Robinson
