Walking Beside a Creek by Ted Kooser

Walking Beside a Creek by Ted Kooser



Walking beside a creek
in December, the black ice
windy with leaves,
you can feel the great joy
of the trees, their coats
thrown open like drunken men,
the lifeblood thudding
in their tight, wet boots.


*this is from a daily email I get called "The Writer's Almanac." Garrison Keillor picks the poems of the day and mentions notable events in the day's history.