Here in Waterville, where it still runs deep,

where you tread it, under the bridge,

you can lead me, but not make me drink.

It can sanctify new life,

or sweep it away in a caught breath.

This is where I will not visit,

where yours has broken,

where blood is not thicker,

where it all goes over the dam.

06/15/2004

Posted on 06/15/2004
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt