PANTHER CREEK FALLS

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Submitted Date 07/23/2019
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This is something like a dream.
Something like rebirth.
Always moving
Forever churning.


Creation holds no secrets
where the robin is observed
where she always existed.

We don't always get a second chance
to visit special places

with special people.
Sometimes all that remains
is a rock, painted and placed

among the lichen.


New scars on the base of the trees. The violence
of a minor fire burned trunks along the perimeter.
Charred, but intact. Life preserved

maybe

by mist

maybe by magic.
If I had to bet--
if betting held weight in this world--
I'd err on the side
of magic.

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