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Doig's Den

 

Ken and Linda Doig

 

Bass Lake, California

 
 

 

Mid Stream
 By Kenneth Frank Doig

No more options,
 Spring fades, a green souvenir.
Mid stream astride slippery boulders,
 Substance like fool's gold caught in ripples,
  Hopes sluiced bare of desire,
   Summer never happened.
Essence a reflection in a barber's mirror,
 Autumn almost gone.
Papers clog the fence like dirty snow,
 Winter, a newscast.

 


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