Creek bank

A grand bank

A grand bank
holds a tuft of grass
at the edge of a sheered
face of soil.

Quietly the liquid
of the creek meanders
as a small constituent
in Earth’s chance.

Around the turn
even slow water
has intention and
a bit of a mean streak.

The erosion of the
bank through turbidity’s might
causes no immediate
sadness or anger.

Brown waters lay dormant
in the eyes of the field’s cattle.
Chance must exist
as suspension rests below.

Yet out of neglect
the silence builds
and is a non-intentional
act of nature.

The footing shall fall
and the tuft of grass will
no longer exist
but the water still runs.

It will be saddened
though because of its
heartless persistence.




Comments 1 comment

billyaustindillon profile image

billyaustindillon 6 years ago

Great poem - I can visualize the creek bank nicely :)

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