Duck Creek
The small stream
gurgles and speaks
as it cuts through
the northside of town.
I stop and listen
as if this is my first time
but it’s always been here
when I passed it in haste.
Now we’re in conversation
at a bend in the middle
of a thicket of trees
where nature whispers and sings.
The sun peeking through branches
offers a moment of revelations
morning’s meditation.
A half mile behind me
cars speed along a busy street
and ahead, more of the same
but now it doesn’t matter.
I’m spending the moment here
a moment lost in time.
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