Part of the creek that is
complete. Can you hear her
chuckle over rocks, sense
the doe and her twins
behind the greening thicket?
Since then floods and turnings
passed, big trees fell, the creek
remade her stony bed. Fawns
still wait just out of sight.
You are in the picture too
do you know? You are
the creek, whole and changing,
the standing tree,
the soft mammal
behind leaf and mask.
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