Thursday, May 14, 2015

The Sound of a Permanent Stream

In a time of droughts, even among those
Who should know better than to be surprised,

This murmuring thread of water, running
Down canyon, as if sources had no end,

Comforts the dry wash where cottonwoods grow
In their deep-rooted conviction water

Can be found lower when it's no longer
Falling from on high. What comes down must rise.

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