Poems, Personals, and Commentary

California Hills

The summer hills, so tawny brown,
Like lion’s fur – his kingly gown

And deep green oaks prance ‘cross the land,
While rabbits run on shady strand

A drying lake, or river dammed,
Shows darkened shores – dried water’s land

But someday soon, the rains will come –
The grasses green — late fall begun

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