Heads down, our future grazes green
on the edge of time, on ground
the river met with Dry Creek—
all the round cobbles mined
to build the county seat gone wild
with willows and cottonwoods,
natives claiming space we named
between the Kaweah and Wutchumna
Hill. Nothing is the same for us
or them as they mature to become cows.
Heads down, it is easy to forget
to look up at where we’ve come from.
Weekly Photo Challenge: ‘Edge’
drycrikjournal 
Nice one
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
From wherever we are, to look back, to look ahead, it is a grace . . .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful pic John–and your verse does the magical thing of bringing me across peoples and timeframe—even epochs—and focuses on space. The beauty of a place in space and time, hand-crafted from above, just for you and me.
Thank you!
LikeLike