Beaver Dam
The water on “my side” is down to a trickle
furtively crawling through the sticks and mud wall,
up above, roughly four feet now, today;
A flat pool stretches dark and far.
Dragonflies skim the surface,
algae drifts with yellow pollen
and clumps of white cottonseed
caught in the liquid clutches of June.
I can sit up higher and see the point of the V trailing away from his wall,
Like me he has punched the clock
on a day’s work done.
I need to portage again, it seems
this dam is too big to slide over.
I wonder at the stillness on the other side,
wonder at the darkness that swallows even the bluebird blue sky.
I feel like slapping my tail.
It feels like home.
©Timothy James Stouffer 06252020 All Rights Reserved
Ely, MN #elystreetpoetPhoto by John Looney