Saturday, April 23, 2011


You never know what a spring day will bring. You may begin the day in sunshine and end in pouring rain; the neighbor's tree may end up on your roof or you may feel the gentle breeze like a caress. Spring is a season of excess -- of color, of winds, of floods. NanU the Poetry Bus driver, has asked that we write about," Excess. Of Far Too Much. Of Going Over the Edge." Easy peasy. Think: spring!

This poem (and pictures) depict two consecutive days last week. Perhaps you can see a little more in it, as well:


One day you walk
along the soft sand bed,
climbing over fallen logs,
tossing rocks and bits of glass
where they were left some time ago.

The next, the rains pound down,
the bank won't hold, it overflows;
the field is sunk in swift and rushing brown
that wipes away all the sticks and stones
you've ever climbed or you have ever thrown.


  1. Wow - it looked like that around here too. I kept meaning to stop & take a picture but I never did. But since this weekend is rainy again I might get another chance.

    I love the poem - there's the flood that washes the treasures away, & then there's a hint of the loss to come when the treasures might be treasured no longer...

  2. I like this poem.

    I like "the rains pound down", "rushing brown" and the stretching to the end "thrown".

    I hope you didn't have any damage from the rains and overflow.

  3. Oh, I like flooding. As much as it deranges our carefully managed lives, it renews the soil, changes the landscape, and makes that stream bank full of entirely new treasures the next time you wander down there.

  4. LOve the second stanza and the washing away which i found a little sad,because of and paradoxically despite the sticks and stones being wiped out.

  5. Karen,
    This is so true with the mixed bag of weather and indeed, our mixed fortunes in life!

    Best wishes, Eileen

  6. Youth and old age - imaged by weather. Liked this poem, Karen.

  7. A lovely observation of the power in a rain cloud. One positive: We're not in a drought!

  8. Wonderful as literal and metaphorical.
    I so love the seeming simplicity of the writing. It's a hard gig to pull off so well.

    And wow to those photographs. I thought we were wet here!

  9. Waiting for that water to recede so we can see what's left of this town. Nice writing Karen.

  10. Words and images are classic reminders of what Spring can bring ...

  11. Enjoyed this- although flooding can be scary.
    Just a little redistributes minerals and silt.
    But we all know the weight of meaningful, wrathful water- thanks for posting this!

  12. I get a terrible sadness from this - a kind of sense of futility in the face of fate. Not sure if that's how it's meant, but that's how I see it.

  13. Everyone - Thanks for your comments. The creek has gone down (we have a saying here: "If the Lord is willing, and the creek don't rise..."), but I digress. Anyway, the creek has gone down temporarily, but as we know, the worm's in the apple somewhere, so I expect it'll rise again! I appreciate that so many of you mentioned the sense of loss; it's just what I was going for. JoAnne, I keep writing these simple lines. I hope it really IS a good thing!

  14. beautiful. and while i also get that sense of loss, it's not a particularly sad one too me - it's more cyclic - a rise and fall kind of thing. or maybe i'm just appreciating the occasional washing away of all those sticks and stones. but you're right - spring does have a way of surprising us with excess.

    and i really love how the first stanza feels like that walk on the bank, picking over rocks, while the second comes swift and sudden. :)

  15. Spring and life. Both can be gentle and kind or devastating. Lovely poem.

  16. That last line is especially wonderful, Karen. There's a heavy truth inside of it. How quickly we can be overwhelmed by forces greater than ourselves. This poem made me feel both the sadness of our transitory lives and the urgency to go out and live it well.

    We've been hit badly by flooding lately, too. When will it end??

  17. Ditto to Joaquin. Nature has to clean after us. Some of its own beauty becomes collateral damage, but I'm hopeful that it'll make up for it soon.

    I wish an occasional flood could wipe away the sticks and stones we've stacked inside us too. But then I'd be afraid of losing a precious flower or two in the process too.