At the railing, listen to all that is offered: the song
of the creek below, a glass of water
poured endlessly over cobble. The lonely song
of a hermit thrush, somewhere unseen, a reminder
of so much sitting just beyond the edge of perception.
High above, a gentle wind stirring the canopy like a sigh.
Summer grows short. My daughter will be leaving
for the city soon. A sycamore leaf drops in slow motion
from above, landing in the water spinning—and is slowly borne away.
Headwaters Forest Reserve, Humboldt County
David Holper has done a little bit of everything: taxi driver, fisherman, dishwasher, bus driver, soldier, house painter, bike mechanic, bike courier, and teacher. He has published a number of stories and poems, including two collections of poetry, The Bridge (Sequoia Song Publications) and 64 Questions (March Street Press). His poems have appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies, and he has recently won several poetry competitions, in spite of his contention that he never wins anything. He is an emeritus professor at College of the Redwoods and lives in Eureka, California, where his is the city’s first Poet Laureate. He thinks Eureka is far enough the madness of civilization that he can still see the stars at night and hear the Canada geese calling.
