Friday, March 5, 2010

The River Paved.


Conjured waters rise; seductively
a caddis dances.

Hooking dashes of motionless orange,
caught and reeled away from bikes' paths
and commuters' existence in oblivion; through lines

and leaders of a lone man's thoughts
feeding, in the silted memory of haunts.

1 comment:

  1. A fisherman finds peace in his tangle of lines, lures and conjured waters. Maybe I should take up such a hobby. The sound of running water lures us in like the embers of a fire beckon ones eyes to stare deeply into its flickering flames. The wind temps one to dance unabashed in its whirling breeze as the cares of the day melt away. A walk on the expansive prairie centers ones breath as you breathe in time with the swaying bluegrass. While a climb up a mountainous peak can take your breath away.Nature has a way of clearing the mind and centering ones soul.

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