Sitting on my tailbone—
already bruised
but one more spot won’t hurt.
The water is cold at first
But it quickly rushes the blood back down.
My feet are in the creek,
my body rests in the mist.
Eaton canyon attracts all.
Parents, babies, couples,
toddlers, grandpas with a cane
leaping over rocks better than you and me.
The baby has the best hair-do,
the gorgeous girl waits for a photo
as others take the obligatory selfie.
Some just sit, soaking in the fall
But those are rare.
Just me and you.
I use it as an excuse
to write these words.
The shade is falling,
But not the people.
The dog is chilly—
Thank god they brought a towel.
Never leave home
without a towel.