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.


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.


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