The Brook on May 15th by Mike O'Neil

The following is Boreegard's (aka Mike O'Neil) latest poetic offering. Enjoy!

THE BROOK ON MAY 15

I went to visit Mom and Pop this afternoon.
A tangle of branches and brambles guarded
The rocky path to the brook.
Sharp hawthorn and wild rose thorns blocked the way.

I moved cautiously, though God knows I've
Walked this path a thousand times,
For a mis-step could easily snap an ankle,
At my advanced age.

These selfsame stones meant nothing to me,
When I was young. I would skip and jump,
From one to another, barefoot,
With incautious equilibrium and n'er a stubbed toe.

We call it the Grandparents Pool.
It's where we put their anglers ashes to rest,
Decades ago,
Each in their own time.

The pool was beautiful, with sweet gullied swirls,
Mysterious deep runs and riffles.
What fine trout water, with the Hendricksons,
Popping up to freedom now and again.

When my carcass has spent itself,
I want them to throw me in there too.

Boreegard
May 15, 2010