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spilling down the canyon
through beavers' dam, tumbling down
over rocks and stones
into quiet pools
where trout linger,
huddled 'neath
birch roots, pouring out
in this gentle creek
where I sit, cooling my feet
listening to its song
through beavers' dam, tumbling down
over rocks and stones
into quiet pools
where trout linger,
huddled 'neath
birch roots, pouring out
in this gentle creek
where I sit, cooling my feet
listening to its song
4 comments:
..beautifully written..thanks..
[pl. correct ur link @ mr. linky]
And it was all for you and your hot, tired feet! Aren't they marvelous, the gifts of nature?
Wouldn't I love to be there! Beautiful photo and poem.
I can hear and see this place so clearly through your words. Oh for the days when the creek makes time stand still. Beautiful!
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