Creekly Curiosity

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We begin!
in autumn yellow wash
filtered sunshine
fire trail parking lot
in our beloved berkeley hills and their
“subsequent sculpturing of water”
without which none of us would be here

We begin
where so much has already
begun and always begins

how easy to feel

cold rhythms of history

high in the brown-green hill

the creek goes under earth
that we stand atop
distanced
as we walk across spongy astroturf
almost like moss
with pop music blaring
onto campus and we reunite again
through little inch culvert

 

textured tierra under my bare feet
singing songs in creek language in the dark tunnel together all harmonizing splashing sploshing
feet feel redwood needles pebbles sharp ouch smooth cool silty slime

 IVY!

even on campus

where things have long been altered

one can still submerge

the creek gathers:
stuff tossed or drifted
farmers market
people from everywhere
colossal campus
colored houses with tended gardens of exotics
(all these things here because originally creek was here)
 

then we reach daylit creek again at sacramento street
Barbara lets us see
she’s grateful for the creek-speak-sound and for our creek-ly curiosity

we walk some more and then
 
all the creek and city and walk
pour out of the dark tunnel
stinky sulfur
into open space in time for
sunset

 

I sit and my feet buzz
Berkeley, walked
from hills to sea
“a day in the life of an urban creek”

we pause

all of us

in reverence to the full rising moon

 

‪in a deep lavender sky

me and steve and zen and jashvina and ariel and myles and eric and

 the creek and the moon

 

we take the 51b back and
 
life carries on without a stitch.

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