Jim Fowler
The mountain sits on the other side of the river.
The years have worn her down but I'll call her mountain still.
Her favorite season is autumn when she wears her motley.
I like spring when she puts on her greens.
In some ways we are the same; we both sit beside the river.
But I came to the river; mountain waited till river came to her.
And river stayed.
Old mountain is wise enough for deep river.
I think I'll go across and sit awhile at mountain's feet.
Jim Fowler
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