Ten Things of Wonder: Poem VII



The silent song

of the stream—you know

the one you heard when

you were seven—well, you

can still hear her musical

strains. But not from the city.

You must sit snuggly

upon her shores again and dangle

your feet in the shallow

waters. You’ll need to slow down,

and surrender to

the stream’s ancient syncopated rhythms.

Mostly though

you’ll need to be

astonished once again

when the singing starts,

like when you were seven.


Bonnie Saul Wilks

Holiday Island, Arkansas

February 23, 2012


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