Walk

poet and dreamer
at the water
watching fish make
rings with their mouths
and tail-flicks

cool breeze and high-banked
cloud, the trees creak

brown butterflies with
white spots, on thistles and
weeds, in the forest
a woodpecker calls

at home, washing
on the line, a break
for tea

the Falls are thin
my summer day
of rest and ease
walls are gone

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