this year

January 1, 2016 § 2 Comments

this year
the first day of the year

and maybe I’ll take that walk 

by the creek I’ve been

meaning to take
being a summer being

I’m likely to bemoan the first

measurable snow 

regardless of its beauty
and as it does when I allow myself 

the gift of solitude 

my mind will go to the word
before long 

I imagine I will 

anthropomorphize 

a rock by the waters edge

or an ancient tree

I can already hear them

voicing wisdoms 

and interpreting history

in yogi like cadences
maybe I will

stomp slop

off my boots and

look for a deer trail to

follow deeper into the 

thicket of the gorge

or traverse the edges where

erosion 

has eaten away at the bank
it’s been warm 

a fair amount of rain

and the creek will be running high

its usual whisper taking

on a sort of urgency

a reminder to me

to relax a little

to stop fighting the current

            just float along
another thing

I’ve been meaning 

to do
(c) 2015 Fred Whitehead 

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