Poems by J.I. Kleinberg

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What the Stream Knows

by J.I. Kleinberg

From Canary Spring 2020

J.I. lives in the Strait of Georgia watershed, between Squalicum Creek and Whatcom Creek, in a region dominated by majestic and, for the moment, quietly volcanic Mount Baker.

The water gathers
down from the pines

crosses the road
in a thin rippled sheet

finds a throat between houses
and washes in rivulets

over pine needles
toward the lake.

I try to repair it there
to encourage a single stream

lift and place one rock
then another

watch the slow liquid cut
through duff and dirt

and when the water insists
on diversion ignores

my intrusive engineering
I turn away stone-fisted

abandon the stream
walk toward the road

where I glance back
see at once 

what the stream knows:
soft declivity between trees

pocket of gravel
and far below

where the lake licks
a large boulder

a spray of sand
left by the stream:

it has been here before.
Hands in its icy flow

I remove one rock then another
and let it lead me to the shore.




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