The Stream

Tumbling down the hill.

Gathering speed,

down a run.

Faster and faster

hurtling into bends

cutting into the mud

frothing at the mouth.

Pebbles sent crashing into rocks,

smoothing off their edges.

The ground is flattening now,

pace is slowing.

Meandering through fields.

Slowly, slowly into the woods.

Smell the wild garlic.

See the dappled sunlight.

Feel the cooling shade.

Hear the water quietly playing in the shallows.

AGW