On the Loss of a Daughter It is summer. The creek works its way through the world carefully, lazily, thoughtlessly. It slices through fields and forests, in sunshine and dark places, and though dark, is still painted by the sun slowly, mostly, yet still towards that bigger place it has to go. Creeks become streams. Streams, rivers. Rivers, lakes, and, ultimately, all become lost in the sea, but, do they really? Does the creek that moves through this world, gathering bits and pieces of the earth— rocks, wood, and sometimes even sky— does that creek truly become lost in the ocean? Or is it part of that ocean? Something else? Sometimes the creek travels alone until it reaches the end. Others mix and mingle and split and reinvent themselves along the way— encountering rocks, fallen trees, and dams, and still, it is able to reclaim itself. It is summer. Sunlight dances on waves. Children play in shallows— splashing, digging, lazing, fighting. The sun shines warming all it touches sending reddened visitors back into the ocean where just below the surface lies cooling waters and things that bite and sting. The sun shines. Waters warm until they rise on cobbled wings and fly. And ultimately fall back
About the Author: Michael G. O’Connell is an author, illustrator, and an award-winning poet. Having been published in various formats worldwide, his latest work can be found in the poetry anthology, Moss Gossamer. He is currently working on an illustrated middle grade book.
Image Credit: Marie Egner “Children by a Mountain Creek” Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 