Walking by the Tolzac

New walk, on the way back from the vet.

Walking by the Tolzac

Tolzac winds deep and strong,
rushing over irreducible rock tumble,
green and lush as spring,
bright as otters.

We walk alongside, unable
to swim or fly or leap, path-bound,
where the trees hang, new-budding,
grass criss-cross tracked.

And in the trees along the river,
the deer hide, and spring comes
thick and green, and the white and pink
quince blossom tastes of deep earth,
rushing water and blue bee-filled air.