the heart pumps
- blood throughout the body,
the stream’s source
pushes water to the bay–
the moon’s lamp ushers
in the morning–
heart beats
the geometry of water,
a river rhythm
free and undefined
Books by W Franklin
Blogroll
- A Family Affair
- Appalachian Mountain Brookies
- Bridging the Gap
- Call of the Stream
- Colorado Chelsea
- Costa Rica Living and Birding
- David J. Bauman
- Fishing Through Life
- FootHills Publishing
- Hanna's Walk
- Jet Eliot
- Landing in the PNW
- Naturalist Weekly
- OldPlaidCamper
- Slate Run Sportsmen
- the !n(tro)verted yogi
- The Literary Fly Fisher
- The Outside Bend
- Troutrageous!
- Wood Thrush Books
- Yeah, Another Blogger
Rivertop Rambles 
Big fan of the site. I’ve been browsing for a few months. Love the photo journal and the poetry that goes along with it.
Walt…I like the top black and white image…are they aspen? I remember running into a a cluster in the northern hills of New Jersey back when I was a kid.
Les, Technically those trees are not an aspen, as you have in MT, but they’re close. They’re poplar, as I call them, or “popple” as some others say, and they’re located in a cluster right behind my house.
Pete, Thank you much for reading and for commenting. Hope that you continue, and enjoy.
Walt, methinks your photography is taking on new dimensions. I really like the last one, a glowing orb of color against a tangled background of gray ( or is it grey?). Nice!
Thanks Bob, I’m definitely enjoying it more these days and messing around with some new possibilities. Yeah, I like the way the apple kind of bobs its way out of the realm of grays/greys, like something just popping into awareness.
Beautiful. For some reason, the photos and the poetry made me think of Willie Nelson’s version of “Moonlight in Vermont.”
I appreciate your sharing of that association, Jim. It tells me that something’s working here. I don’t know Willie’s version of the song but, in my own perverse way, you make me think of Capt. Beefheart’s wonderful version on Trout Mask Replica. Crazy genius.
Nice. The birch so barren, a true sign of the change that is here.
It’s an “extra log on the fire” sort of change. Thanks Alan.