Just begin
at the tall end of a creek.
Cling to the bank.
Chances are,
you’ll come to a shed or
a log, rotten and hollow,
or a junked out Ford,
an upturned boat:
some place to sleep,
catch your breath,
long before you die —
long before you reach the sea.
Image: Jordan Madrid on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
Devon, quite an imaginative piece… one never knows where the spin of the compass will take us. Especially when it’s on magnetic north. An excellent penning!
Thanks, Lance. I enjoyed writing this piece. It made me laugh when I needed to laugh.
D
Always a wonderful pleasure, Devon. Writing will do that… Peace and light.