Roxbury Stream

by Abby Frierson

Sitting by the stream

In cheerful summer days,

I cannot count the ways,

In which that happy water lives

Its every day by day.

For now it rings with shouts,

Of gleeful childrens’ play,

But when there’s none to shout and sing,

How does it spend its days?

Do cheerful frogs and polliwogs

Leap and sing and swim?

Or does it merely count the days

Until its summer ends?

When summer’s end is drawing near,

Does it heave a heavy sigh;

As soulfully it sings a song

Of happy days gone by?

But now we’re here, and try

To keep it company;

So in the days when it’s alone,

It has fond memories.