Ghazal for a Nameless Stream
by James Brush
I walk as in an autumn dream
to this sweet and secret stream.
Cumulous roiled sky and leaves,
reflections in this cloudlet stream.
Come winter nightfall stars shine
time above this comet stream.
Raindrops pelt the surface of this
momentary wavelet stream.
Despite well known creeks, I’m drawn
each spring to this minute stream.
Turtles travel the muddy road
of this slow and temperate stream.
Summer noon, birds disperse; only
wind around this quiet stream.
How many days have I explored
and sat beside this favorite stream?