Water runs in streams
through sandy swales,
clear and cold and quick,
carves underedges
along tiny banks,
trails pebbles too large
to carry forward,
and returns again
in its own path to
the great, wild churning.


Water glides over
broken asphalt, shifts
its course over sharp,
jagged cracks,
deposits mud, clay
from baseball diamond
into crevices,
along its edges,
drips down to the dark
hollow underneath.