Tuesday, February 26, 2013

North Bootlegger Creek

 
At the mouth of the creek. 
 
Tumbleweeds on the lake.



1 comment:

  1. In the Late Season
    by Tom Hennen

    At the soft place in the snowbank
    Warmed to dripping by the sun
    There is the smell of water.
    On the western wind the hint of glacier.
    A cottonwood tree warmed by the same sun
    On the same day,
    My back against its rough bark
    Same west wind mild in my face.
    A piece of spring
    Pierced me with love for this empty place
    Where a prairie creek runs
    Under its cover of clear ice
    And the sound it makes,
    Mysterious as a heartbeat,
    New as a lamb.

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