At the River's Bend

come late november days

and late fall delays

to yield to winter's demand

the time between is upon the land

the trees are overtly naked

bending beneath age and forsake'd

of their colored glory

yet not, and still full of story,

beauty not forsaken

just a different sort taken

eyes blessed to behold it all

creation's mighty call

and in the end

it still happens at the river's bend.

 

by dave

 

Done