"creekside picnic"
A bank slants toward late light,
grass pressed flat where the blanket settles.
Water shifts in a slow pattern,
small rings widening near the fallen branch.
A thermos rests in the shade,
its warmth fading into the ground.
Clothes lie in a loose heap near reeds,
one sleeve brushing dry earth.
Footsteps compress the bank,
and the surface adjusts around a quiet entry.
A breeze moves through the treeline,
lifting one corner of the blanket, then letting it fall.
Upstream, a faint sound carries,
not close enough to follow.
The day holds steady,
as if waiting for the next small change.
.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 26th, 2026 05:25
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Mutley Ravishes, sorenbarrett
- In collections: 2026.
Offline)
Comments6
very good write my friend, simplistic description which fits well enjoyed
Fit for a Sunday away from the rat race. Thanks, dear Norman 🙏🕊️
most definitely
Many thanks, Norman 🙏🏻🕊️
most welcome
Edenic, Arqios!
One place that's on the bucket list for the other side; this side of heaven is pretty much covered. Thanks, Mutley 🙏🕊️
It seems a still life in motion but not action. It awaits on hold for what is to come. The very verbs indicate holding. Nicely done Cryptic a fave
This is a amazing.It highlights the the absolute power of good poetry to paint a picture and transport the reader. I can taste champagne.Well done
Love it! Very calming and tranquil. Do we know whose footsteps approached?
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