Running With The Forest

Hart

I cup my hands

Dipping them into

Cliff Creek…and am

Taken back… by

The clearness of the water

So, I peer into the forest, for

The creek’s source,

The Coast Range.

Realizing its spring is

So near the cliff, that

Plunges this newly born water

Into the Pacific.

In the form of

A small waterfall,

Harts Cove.

I hold handfuls of the stuff

That can’t stand still,

Dancing with the sun,

Reflecting through

The driest forest canopy I have

Ever seen…

Drinking mouthfuls,

Which will not make

It to the ocean

I’m greedy with my thirst

(It’s been dry for so long)

I’m here to quench the longing

Now, I must drink………..for

I stand between

Spring and falls, and as

I fill myself

A hiker passes me, noticing

My parched state

I say to him

“I’m sorry. I’ve been running.”

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