Tag Archives: wfranklin poetry

How Spring Came to the River Tops

I’d left the block of wood to age and mellow. I couldn’t split it with an ax. It seemed too large and knotty for use as firewood. Weeks later I took the ax and swung again. The impact on my … Continue reading

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Invitation

Set aside books and camera. Enter pine and maple woods where meadow eases into autumn’s fire-leaf and birdwing canopy. There is wildness in the robin, a divinity where no one stands to taste wild apple or to hear the distant … Continue reading

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