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Stream of Observation

It may have been rhyme led me to express;
I've vowed to let the language stand alone,
to let the leafy ,green glade tell its tale,
allow the verdant valley breathe its charm.

Meander river with its tributaries;
disclose, as you pull me along your tales,
bright flash of fish, the predator or prey,
leap as the mayfly its brief life fulfills .

Watch watery reflections mirror leaves,
the open spaces shifting, blue, the sky.
As imagination leads the progress,
how changed the moving image we observe.

A jolt as floating twig encounters rock,
then yields its pathway to accept detour,
then swirls swiftly in a surging eddy,
its destiny as random as these words.

06/15/2016 Carol Welch
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