9.04.2009

The Dwindled Creeks of Summer

We are off to enjoy peace and quiet in our favorite camping spot. The picture above was taken there last year. As always, I find a feeling of familiarity when I read Mary Oliver's words.

Creeks

The dwindled creeks of summer,
Unremarkable except,
Down pasture,
through woodlot,
They are so many
And keep such a pure sound
In each roiling thread,
Trickle past the knees of trees,
Dropped leaves, salamanders
Each one scrubbing and cooling
The pebbles of its bed.
My back to hickory, I sit
Hours in the damp wood, listening.
It never ebbs.
Its music is the shelf for other sounds:
Birds, wind in the leaves, some tumbled stones.
After awhile
I forget things, as I have forgotten time.
Death, love, ambition — the things that drive
Like pumps in the big rivers.
My heart
Is quieted, at rest. I scarcely feel it.
Little rivers, running everywhere,
Have blunted the knife. Cool, cool,
They wash above the bones.
-Mary Oliver

1 comment :

  1. Have a nice time camping... I wish I was able to get out and do the same.
    The mornings are so cool and crisp and the days are still bright and warm. Ideal conditions for camping.

    Take care.

    ReplyDelete

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