A Poem: Thirst

Never would Thoreau have thought
That one day, the sight of a simple creek
Would be so rare, so strange, so uncommon
That it might bring tears to the eyes of a passer-by
As I was.
Awestruck by the green grass, the minnows flickering
The crinkled sound of water dripping over grey rock
A fountain of pure beauty
From which I cannot drink.