I found you standing by the stream
That ate away the earth
Laid over all your ugly roots,
Your lumps and bobs and warps.
Those desperate roots drove deep backwards
To seek besmirching soil,
While clear below the brook sipped sup,
All laughing, loving you.
The pebbles on the floor of her
Are round and safely smooth.
The sharp’s been chuckled off of them
While tumbling toward the sea.
The gentle stream brushed ever by
And cleaned away the dirt,
And as she stole your eldest dust,
O weeper, you leaned in.