In the twenty-three years that it took
To return to the valley to live for good,
I pushed three children into likelihood,
Or they pushed me into spiral books,
And twenty-three rings grew in cottonwoods
Storing the river where they stood.
2017
In the twenty-three years that it took
To return to the valley to live for good,
I pushed three children into likelihood,
Or they pushed me into spiral books,
And twenty-three rings grew in cottonwoods
Storing the river where they stood.
2017
Loverly, wrought with both rhythm and rhyme.
Love these three lines:
I pushed three children into likelihood.
and twenty-three rings grew in the cottonwoods
Storing the river where they stood.
Love, too, the charting of the life-happening, away from Salida, where you were, while away; and also the Salida-life that was continuing to happen, amid your absence.