A Year in The Deepwood

Deepwood: The Stream

Turtles gently roam
its sloping banks
passing sumac
growing red and wild,
while strange colored fish
whirl and spin in clear shallows,
in and around cattails and reeds
all growing uninterrupted.

Overhead, a large falcon follows
the corridor of trees,
that grow along this stream,
his summer shadow cast upon
the bed below,
shimmering darkly there among
the centuries smoothed stones,
the occasional arrowhead,
and one or two familiar looking
bones of unknown origin,
half buried
and entirely forgotten,
in the sand

and silt

and time.


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