Mounts. Poem by Michael Gale

Mounts.



The river clings to cliff's towering toes.
As if in total blows.
Fro' rapid's swathing throes.
let that River ring, cliff, Be our only foes.

Belay that hard fought rows.
Belay all the feelings of all time lows.
Ice caps and rocky hills Mount.
Snowy rivers flow to and fro',
and about.

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Michael Gale

Michael Gale

Chicago Illinois/Oklahoma City.
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