A Country Creek
A Country Creek
A country creek in January
It looks so cold, it’s almost scary
The banks are dusted with the snow
The ice impedes the water’s flow
The trees are bare, no sign of life
The wind cuts through you like a knife
The sky is gray, the sun won’t shine
It’s not a favorite site of mine
But a country creek in early June
Is a place I’d like to visit soon
The banks are plastered with footprints
The water flows, in fact it sprints
The trees are green and full of birds
The wind now carries nature’s words
The sky is blue, the sun shines bright
If I could stay there, I just might
Copyright © Mike Dailey | Year Posted 2015
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