LW Poetry

This feature showcases original poems by members of the Creative Writers Club and other GRF members. Send poems to emmad@lwsb.com. Poetry submissions run as space allows.

Water and Me

He’s known to go by many names and we love to play at merry games but just who is the screwy guy who floats in clouds up in the sky?

When he sits placidly, he’s called a pond. To my rock, his restful ripples respond.

After we’ve had this little talk, he gets on his feet to take a walk, becoming a creek or a stream and in a waking dream, an arrow is loosed from a quiver, and I’m a man and he’s a river.

—Dave Crandall, Mutual 10