Sediment

Looking for a place to cross,

I pick my path carefully.

Creek wash stones can shift.

I do not want to fall.

I pick my path carefully.

As my sneakered foot strikes stone,

I do not want to fall,

but that captive shell startles me.

My sneakered foot struck stone,

in a concretion from the past

that startles me, I glimpse

time before my time.

A concretion from the past

creek wash stones have shifted,

time before my time,

I’ve found my place to cross.