The Nature of Water


I used to build dams
In the little creek out back
Of my grandparents house
In a forest I was sure held
Hobbit houses within the hills
Fairies and dryads
Even the little stream
I knew, was a water nymph
Singing chirrupy burbling songs.

I’d spend hours beneath
Waiving green, watching light and shadow
Write out spells upon the clear rills
My hands black with mud
Stacking stones reverently
My own little monolith
An inuksuk, to show that I was here
Leaving my mark as the water pooled
A little glistening fingerprint.

I know now that water
Bears no marks
Has no memory
Unlike skin, unlike hearts
Or the raw earth
I wish I could go back there
Be the stream
With no memory.

But I can’t,
As they say
You can never cross the same waters twice.

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2 Responses to “The Nature of Water”

  1. agwa noce Says:

    often wonder how the absence of water affects you

  2. boynciapoktossler Says:

    the water still sings your praises – in every season

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