I Wade Into The Prairie ~ Pastoral Poetry Poem by Christine A Kysely

I wade into my creek...
I wade into the Prairie...
Crayfish scuttle about my feet
I can feel the slippery algaed rocks
slide perilously under my feet.

The sun is high
90 degrees, even in shade
in this stiffling July heat
Not a creature is stirring
anywhere above this rippling creek
Not a bird, not a bug
Only me and only me.

The noonday sun
turns its pools
Into lighter shades of bronze
tinged with some copper
Leached from its bed
of slippery stones
Copper mixed with mud.

The water pulls at me...
Pulls at me...
Tries to pull me from my feet...
But its wet coolness
keeps its hold of me
Coolness versus heat
and I wade on...

Although I know that somewhere
Somewhere closer than I think
In the deepest, darkest pools
A snapping turtleor two lie waiting...
Jaws of iron in this creek.

I still wade on...



(January 21,2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved