The Outflow

I went down by the lake today
to the place where it flows out.
The leaves were gone,
the sky a steely, desolate grey,
as silently I watched
the water sweep beneath my feet,
where I stood upon the catwalk.
And I thought:
the water,
rushing endlessly by,
knows nothing of my thoughts,
can neither laugh nor cry,
as I do;
but it has seen, and heard all things
in its timeless cycle;
and I have come here,
year after year,
just to watch the water flow.

Lakeside9, November 11,1995