A Rivertop Reflection

the hills seem haunted

the hills seem haunted

by the ages--

by the ages–

bare trees climb the sky,

bare trees climb the sky

a stream bends toward the sea--

a stream bends toward the sea–

leaves float, faces

leaves float, faces

from the grave disperse--

from the grave disperse–

an aster blooms

an aster blooms

near a fossil rock--

near a fossil rock–

an autumn eye

an autumn eye

looks for summer past

looks for summer past

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About rivertoprambles

Welcome to Rivertop Rambles. This is my blog about the headwaters country-far afield or close to home. I've been a fly-fisher, birder, and naturalist for most of my adult life. I've also written poetry and natural history books for thirty years. In Rambles I will mostly reflect on the backcountry of my Allegheny foothills in the northern tier of Pennsylvania and the southern tier of New York State. Sometimes I'll write about the wilderness in distant states, or of the wild places in the human soul. Other times I'll just reflect on the domestic life outdoors. In any case, I hope you enjoy. Let's ramble!
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4 Responses to A Rivertop Reflection

  1. Dr. G says:

    Gator,

    This visual poem matches the melancholy of the season perfectly. Well done, Sir!

  2. Thank you Trutta. Always good to hear from one whose season is the global opposite of that in the U.S.

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