Afternoon Creek
My legs lay still
in icy creek water.
I let the droplets
lick the pinprick hairs
along my shin bones.
Drifting pine needles,
dead and brittle,
collect around my knees.
The pads of my toes
touch mossy rock beds
and slippery stones.
My eyelids swirl
on soft ripples
and sunlight.
The creek whispers
and my body listens.
2 thoughts on "Afternoon Creek"
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“The creek whispers
and my body listens.”
How many times have I heard this, too, at the river near us … You shared a lovely evocative poem of place.
Kevin
love this poem. visceral goodness. beautiful.