Shimrock Falls
Here, alone, beside the sprig of Shimrock Falls
Where memories rise from poetic slumber,
My place of solace, whenever sadness calls.
Among the pine and maple by the number,
I listen, water cascades down crevice walls,
A glossy gown for granite of raw umber.
Let me just say, not on any map you’ll find,
For this secret treasure’s deep within my mind.
02/03/19
Copyright © Phil Capitano | Year Posted 2019
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