Work From rain and melted snow To find a way to the creek. To a stream, in a hurried dash to the ocean And here I stand, with bits of waterfalls trapped, inside buckets. My shoes. Soggy, wicking socks Make close friends…
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Reservoir #5 Click on image to enlarge. More images found here.
Cool kiss from the forest Stirs an inner revival Charged by its music Fresh from the source That drums upon rocks. As if my very bones Were strewn underneath The stream of Orpheus Whose rhythms sink Past thirst, deep within My core, my atomic…
This trail cannot always follow the river. In time, the river will change course due to landslides, fallen trees, earthquakes, perhaps volcanic eruption. Creeks and springs, which feed the river, will chew chunks out of rock, ground, the shell the trail is constructed upon….
I cup my hands Dipping them into Cliff Creek…and am Taken back… by The clearness of the water So, I peer into the forest, for The creek’s source, The Coast Range. Realizing its spring is So near the cliff, that Plunges this newly born…
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