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Through a break in the trees

Through a break in the trees
  Flows a tawny river
Sanding the rock endlessly
  As a peerless carver.
 
The jungle is not seen
  In the murky water’s face.
The skies do not skim upon
  Its delicate countenance.
 
It refuses the tree’s growth.
  The rushing seeks to replace
Tribulations for peace
  Skipping them away.
 
Its waters fill my mind.
  I remember Zongo Falls
As an obscure haven
  For which my heart longs.
Other works by Amy Michelle Mosier...



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