leave their runic offprint of an
autograph on thawing snowbanks
“whose meltwaters go down loquacious
in torques, in curdlings, cadenzas
by the earful.”— Amy Clampitt, “Runes, Blurs, Sap Rising,” in The Collected Poems of Amy Clampitt (2011)
The image accompanying this post shows the brook near my house.