Words from a Stream…

Some people they do call me a brook,

Some others do call me a creek,

Still more just call me what I am, a stream,

Here I have traveled through out time, here is where I have been…

People used to come and drink of my waters,

Now they just pollute them, my fish become slaughtered,

Children used to play in my cooling currents,

Now all they do is let loose their own streams, I see the same ones recurrent…

Animals still do drink of my cooling flow,

Little do they realize they are being poisoned,

Try do I to wash away what man has in me bestowed,

I have been in this same spot since oh so long ago…

This little stream needs to talk, yes to scream,

To man’s conscience to explain to him his damage extreme,

There was a time I did hold man in my esteem,

Though times have changed, if he did not pollute, we could again be a team…

            © ed ~ 1/31/05