Morning, The River.







                                       Morning, The River.




Awaken!


Tendrils of mist, silent ghostly worshipers, rise across the river.


Ghost’s departing their watery graves.


Softly, softly, feathered singers serenade.


Subtle, sensual, this dance with the mists.


Sun sneaks above the horizon, a timid child approaching the new day.


Wind gently caresses the willows, sweeping down the river path.


Pillows trek across the sky, to and fro, merchants of the blue.


Warmth, slithers across the landscape, embracing all.


Old friends reunited, gentle murmurs raise across the land.



Awake now, this river of life.





Locky J 

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