Morning rains wash away

the winter grime 

on the windows of a sleepy town

nestled comfortably 

in the river valley

fog wafts over the ball fields

backstreets and tobacco barns

orchards and berry patches

bike paths and gas pumps

unwatched, the water rises

in the river next door

and rises

and rises
© Erik Hansen 2017


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Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing

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