The Brook Parable

The water looked clear, but could have been toxic.
Water striders wandered under the cutbanks,
Their thin, black feet dimpling the surface without
Sinking in. Upstream, past the road’s overpass,
There was a small pond with a snapping turtle
And past that a remnant of a boggy marsh.
Downstream, the brook curled around scrub woods and fields
Before vanishing in more remnants of marsh.
The sides were muddy. The bottom was sandy.
Wading birds were never around stalking things,
And no one saw even the tiniest fish.