these headwaters 
meet here 
surrounded by it's wetlands
they've brought sediment...

pebbles, tumbled smooth 
to meet the secluded,
ragged edged, stone bank 
unearthed... left sharp
as rivers mixed 
end their flow

comforted, silenced
within musical birdsong
that greets to rejoice
the refreshing arrival

at dawn they hear the Loon
it's cry still mystifies
the mourning Dove as she
attempts to coo
him back to rest

I met the man next door,

he is smiling and younger than I.

The Gentleman next door

he has antique tractors three or four.

Shy guy, he brought my screen that blew to his yard.

On each side there is one 

Now Jim he has Lou Gehrig's Disease, the smiling face

The guy with the Ellis B, Vern St.John is ninety three

Then there's Ed, shy his door opened with hesitation,

has I told him to call me if he should need anything, 

this, after I watched the First Response take his Mom away

yesterday it was a good day for me.

So new friends I have as all the others let them be.

Hands,
held cupped.

A chalice
filled with flowing tears

as their silence is spoken.

Lifted now
to gently cleanse
a face that once was broken.

Outstretched limbs
support these palms
drenched in mourning sorrow,

They come together 

as solace
waits behind the moon
believing
in tomorrow