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