I stood and watched the creek run,
Where it bent down the way
Light then dark, mottled in shadow,
Sounds of lapping like laughter.
One solitary deer joined me,
Standing hazy in the mist,
Moving like spider webs,
Some old forest ghost
Come to laugh and play
In the dancing of water and sky,
Smell of tree and moss,
Touch of breeze like sweep of lace.
Between the deer and I,
Standing indistinct, soft edges,
We never knew which was ghost,
Which was real.
-Kevin Blankenship
Love this! You captured the sights, sounds, smells and feel of the place, bringing it to life.
Lovely poem
I feel like I am there!
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