Looking for a Line (Orange Linings Project)

It wasn't the line I went to seek,
this crooked route, this trail that goes
through backyards and over streets.

I searched all morning and met defeat.
The orange fence-lines did not show
any of the lines I went to seek

though others were there. I was pleased to greet
a poet or two whose names I know
among backyards and on the street.

I stopped at last at Johnson Creek,
tired of vainly following my nose,
not finding lines I went to seek,

and soaked my hot and tired feet,
my legs all torn by blackberry and rose
that grow through yards and between streets.

If you get a chance, go take a peek
at a line of living water that flows
through backyards and under streets.
(It wasn't the line I went to seek.)

Collection available! Knocking from Inside