Wednesday, May 11, 2011

The Shoreline---millions of years old---a poem

Up the shore. Find a trail. Hike-a-bike.

The old shore, waters receded.

Springtime in the lowlands, looking to the highlands. Waiting for the adventures of Summer to come with snow melt.

But now we are the post-work crowd out on two wheels.

Over the city submerged in the valley beyond.

But up here we are dry.

And old trails are new again.

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