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Dry Creek

    By Naomi Stewart. April 10, 2015 - 3:43 pm

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This water is still,

This water is stagnant,


From a drought of

Affection and emotion.

All I see is rock-bed

Not put to rest,

Only insomniac,


The green is brown

The bark is dry

A wasteland almost.

I walk along this

Dry creek,

Hopeless to encounter

Any moisture,

But then I see a puddle,

Calm, clear.

My feet, sore from

Restless rock-bed,

Submerge into the cool pool

And it soothes them

For a short while

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