upon her own reflection
in the river
it is the snow
nature her child
from its foggy sleep
water never tires
of the temperature’s
perpetual requirement of readjustment
of a solitary bird
walking the riverside rocks
Taken down by the wind
now the the mighty pine
nourishes the river bank and bottom.
So goes the cycle of life.
Along the great Long River
the first touch of Fall, a splash of red,
presents itself along the southern bank.
The fields form a patchwork quilt,
a growing green cover that reaches from the river bank to the mountains.
Tied together with labor and nurture for the purpose of sustenance.