Poems of Lighthouse Bob
Winding River #452
Winding River Meandering, my path does glide through mountain passes, gaps and slides where, then, when reached, the other side I smoothly turn to lake most placid in the wake of wanderings made through the pines as barricades of different kinds brought twists and turns and bends and winds that metaphor does make me out to be a snake, but, I think, more, that I should be a fortitude, a simile of something that is flowing free, an advocate of life. |
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Winding River #452
Winding River #452