Tag Archives: outdoor

evening poem, feb, 25, 2017

    Up the stream to the forks of the river And from there to the bridge that has been there forever Past company houses with unpainted doors Through tunneling birches and tall sycamores   copyright 2017

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Morning Post, April 6, 2015

It must have been twenty years ago.  Maybe more.  But it was on this day, my birthday, April 6th.  It was a clear and warm afternoon, but the river was still cold from the winter and I was the only … Continue reading

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