Cache Creek

Cache Creek

Everything I’ve lost is here in the eddies,
the face I had when I was young reflecting
in still water, the voices of my lovers
audible in ripples. This mud on the bank
is the work I didn’t love and that arching
branch the enterprise that saved me. Wet stones
beneath my feet are the lullabies I’ve sung
to other peoples’ children. The deepest pool
is where I drowned my own.

— Molly Fisk, author of The More Difficult Beauty

T. S. Poetry

One thought on “Cache Creek

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: