Battenkill Spring

Yesterday, at last, winter loosed its grip.

The river sparkled, flowing free.

Water everywhere — underfoot, along the road.

Mud.

 

The dogs embrace the dampness

With noses, paws, and rolling bodies.

A muddy, wonderful mess.

 

Fishermen appear along the banks

I work to get ready.

Knots, loops, lines and rings.

A year older, fingers fat and clumsy.

 

New York City —

Responsibility to clients, colleagues,

Co-creators of a Community.

Battenkill is here with me.

 

April 3, 2017

2 thoughts on “Battenkill Spring

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