“Look how gracefully these leaves are just flowing downstream.”

“Look how gracefully these leaves are just flowing downstream.”

 

I didn’t see what she meant.

 

She was a young mother

With her young children,

And a young man,

Perhaps the children’s father,

Perhaps her husband.

 

She was pointing down at the creek,

Saying this several times, until her kids

Finally looked—

“Look how gracefully these leaves

are just flowing downstream.”

 

After the family had moved on

I walked over

And peered into the water,

at the spot she had indicated.

 

Yet it seemed to me

That the leaves weren’t flowing;

They were stuck

The water was flowing—

 

Then, later,

I looked down

at a different stream,

and more stuck leaves—

 

I wondered—

 

The leaves appear stuck

To me

But really they are flowing,

 

Stuck now, in this moment,

But flowing soon, washed away soon—

 

What else appears stuck,

          but really is flowing?

 

Maybe everything stuck

          is really

          flowing?

 

 

Matthew Eighmy