The Mountain Stream

Joseph W. Robertshaw

In deeper pools and eddies whirls time can stand near still, To nourish and revive the wood
Before it babbles down the hill.
Opportunity breaks the surface and just as fast is gone Tumbling along in the frolic of the flow,
A rolling rock, a mossy rolling stone.
Time slips away, liquid, cool, insistent,
Beneath the verdant shroud of circumstance,
Unerring and unending, unhalting downward to the sea.
Chance may bend the course of time and wrest her from her bed Spilling out to feed new lands
Or revive some forgotten desert sands.
For now the rushing torrent sound as it runs across my face, Reminds me that the river soon in other forms,
Will return again to this place.
I am just a mountain so I must stand and wait. 

Spark by Michael Marshall Smith

My name is Joseph Robertshaw. I like poetry and prose and try to write both. I was asked to leave my high school English class and my high school but all these years later, I have just written a fantasy book. I have dropped out of high school and have earned two master’s degrees. I have taught cooking, safety, customer service and now, for the past five years, First Year Composition. I am a husband and a father and, in my life, I have killed turkeys, cooked chickens, thrown crabs, siphoned salmon. I have been a stay at home navy spouse. I have sailed the Bering Sea and rolled through Europe on the rails. I currently live in Ohio and I expect to earn a PhD in Rhetoric and Writing in 2018. 

The Mountain Stream is Copyright © Joseph Robertshaw 2015