and echoing overhead
there’s an ocean of noise ,
hurriers of the highway
racing to and from a goal
soon to be forgotten.
the crystal river flows by,
a few ripples, tiny white caps,
as it drifts quiet to a distant sea,
a leaping fish breaks water,
both urged by a force of nature..
bursts of color, spring’s wildflowers
in nature’s groupings, blues and purples,
a sea of dandelion yellow
before a backdrop of untamed vines,
vines’ closed buds soon to flower white
and yield sweet fruits of summer.
a lone angler stands booted,
braced firm in the river’s surge,
his sunsilvered line looping graceful arcs.
The brief eddy that had tempted his lure,
perhaps a fish, or only a swirl
brought by the river’s hidden floor.
on the freeway overhead, they hurry,
eyes intent on the speeding metal cages
ahead, beside, behind their own cages,
radio’s turned high,
riders’ eyes fixed on text messages.
On the path below,
noise is dimmed and muted,
for one whose ears and mind
have focused fully to the vista,
Armitage Park is a riverside park beneath the freeway near Eugene, Oregon