June 6, 2013

Stream


The stream
running through
my uncle's farm,
flows now 
just as it did 
at my birth.
The sky overhead,
the earth underfoot,
give us a sense
of our worth.
My uncle is gone,
his girls grown old,
he saved me  
when I once fell behind.
The hole was deep,
his arm brought me up,
the water was
filling my mind.
If only he 
could save me now,
wherever he is,
I know he would still
be so kind.

6/4/13