In my dream the creek says:

Dave BontaFebruary 14, 2017epigrams and conundrums, forest

A young beech tree, still clinging to its leaves in winter, has half-fallen over at the top of a muddy bank.

I am not your pet. I can rise. In one afternoon I can take back everything I’ve laid down for a thousand years.

Published by Dave Bonta

I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. My books of poetry include FAILED STATE: HAIBUN, ICE MOUNTAIN: AN ELEGY, BREAKDOWN: BANJO POEMS, and ODES TO TOOLS. View all posts by Dave Bonta

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