In the Lea of the Rolling Soft Bends
In the lea of the rolling soft bends
there’s a spot fills me with a shiver
where the warmth and the cool softly blends.
somewhere between ocean and river.
Tall trees grow shorter and slimmer
as the scent of the ocean takes hold
the light of the moon shining dimmer
casting shadows grown gnarly and old.
As icy salt air curls everything near
slow rising to reach the tall peak
old fishermen sit on the edge of the weir
paying heed to the winds as they speak.
Knowing the seasons beginnings and ends
in the lea of the rolling soft bends.
John G. Lawless
©11/10/2021
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