Behind My House

I sit on a dry part

Of the bank of the creek

As it babbles it's song

In tune with the birds.

I think about how

This small stream

Will wind its way

Into Haw River.

I think about how

So many such small streams

Lead to the same place.

And I think about

How many it must take

To make up all of Haw River.

And I sit,

And think,

And toss pebbles

Into the small creek

That runs behind my house.

The End

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