Water slow and cool.
Above upon the bank,
the electric Sun’s forgotten sons
reach out in silence towards their Father,
then bend down to kiss the ground.

Water slow and mournful.
Moves down toward the river.
Innocence and beauty diluted
by time, fertilizer ,and iron.
Waters gone brown and muddled.
Smacks against the rocks, begging,
to not be carried on to the sea
to become homeless and hopelessly free.

Worm upon callused young hand,
Barely tries to escape.
I turn him to bait, reluctantly.
But I tell Him
I’m really just hooking me.

Hot burst of drizzle.
Smells of wet moss
among a man’s dead dreams,
less sweet than honey,
darker than an ocean breeze.

Wind tunnels down,
leaves ramble and scream.
Seems so important.
I cant figure out what they mean.

Father I’m sorry.
I see the long unspoken pain.
You only asked for us,
through the years to transcend.
Follow you through the creek's eddies and holes to better ends.
See the truths you saw
and learn where not to fall.
Now we know,
all water has an identical mouth
and your children's journeys were less than yours.

You had little hope in me
since you gazed upon my muddled brown eyes
with your electric blue,
and saw I’m only a lesser mold of you.


But we still lie to each other,
even when there's love
and no one to hear us but creek.