Wednesday, October 21, 2015



I walk beside on
Well worn path
And follow every bend
Of stream
A quiet brook that strolls
And wends
It’s summer way
Through shady glen
And dappled gallery
And like the hush
Of famous halls
The soft museum voices
Of her water
Whisper of your memories
Rolling gently over riverbed
She curates you through centuries
Carrying echoes of your
Footfall in her tales
I step in reverence on this path
Of silent moccasin
And farmer’s homespun
And we walk along together
On the ancient fallen needles
Of the past
We tread our way in
Perfect solitude
As she threads our steps
Together
And I listen to your stories
From the river



Sara Mathews    October 2015

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