Recycling Creativity

So, in my poetry writing class, I've been recycling old poems because I'm too lazy to write new ones. I figured that I would continue the trend by recycling the new stuff I write for that class on here for the same reason. So, here is something.



I call my creek mine because I leave some of myself behind each time we part. It sang to me ever since my first inkling of its existence. Our meeting was simple. The exchange of names was unnecessary for we recognized our own. I saw my hair in its glinting water, my feet in its stony bed, and my laugh in its babble. My creek saw the same in me. It bid me to step into its chill beneath the shading trees. And we became ours.