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poetry by j matthew waters

waiting for you there


you dig stones out of the earth
as if they are potatoes
stuffing them into a sack

once filled you sling them
over your shoulder
make the short trek
down to nearby stream

children of all ages follow you
along the way
one by one
and two by two they get in line
some holding hands
some chatting and some not
all fully aware what’s
inside the burlap

once at the water’s edge
all becomes quiet except
for the stream itself
speaking a language you
have learned to accept over time

the children watch in silence
as you fall to your knees
dipping and cleaning
and handing out
one stone after another





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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