sometimes, in summer
follow the river, studded
with tiny harmless fish
with small shiny mica paths-
watching stones tossing
in the sparkling catskill sunlight
only to fall where her crispness
underfoot, makes fragrances
like sandlewood and patchouli
while winter brings mica stones
sitting cold below the layers
of heavy snow to dream
of that celebrated spring
when river does all the gushing
and then to follow with the height of summer
where she becomes an endless dancer
a forever lover swishing
at the peak of her power
to shine-- making music
become divine--
and silence,
a stumbled upon miracle
words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '16
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