Walk over Whatcom Creek
Rot filled reed twirls on axle
in a current heading toward the bay
wave hiccups over, turns white
if only for a second to breathe
Grass flat on the shore
exposes all that rest here
in the cold under arch
pressed and fluttered
stuff with down
Frogs sleep in mud
hidden below snails and slugs
hand knit stitch surrounds my head
Shoes trace the lines over water
Walk over Whatcom Creek
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| Japanische Bruecke, 1899 by Claude Monet |
S.P. Laws
National Poetry Month | Poem a Day
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