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Life of a Creek

God or Nature has given us

a cloudy wet morning and I

will take that happily today

I’ll take it all happily even

the painful catch in my neck

the awful smells of my two dogs

the ache in my elbow

the roof that persistently leaks

for whatever reason I cannot know

for I have climbed over a hump

a hillock really that once seemed

a cliff with only a jumping-off

place on the other side

climbed over it to find of all things

bluebells! violets purple and white

(and even yellow) two box turtles

one large one half grown

a flutter of chickadees

a merry creek rolling on and on

never giving up never saying

Oh I have so had it with these rocks

this fallen tree that bend those two ducks!

but going on as a creek will do

just because that is what

a creek will do and so

if you please

will I.

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Turtles

Windows open this first day of spring

the cool air whispering truths in

a language I cannot puzzle out.

Vernal sky layered with soggy clouds

considers yet another downpour.

On the path I saw one and then another

box turtle coated with mud from a deep sleep.

I long to see the place that kept them safe

all winter, to see their eggs and the

babies hatching out into a place both

strange and somehow familiar before

plodding off into the mystery and

delight of the world already knowing

what to do and how to do it while

I, after sixty years wandering,

continue to stumble bumping

into boulders tripping

over roots and stumps.