Frozen Spring (Anatolia,Turkey, 1971)
Something stopped me by a mountain stream,
Something which caught my eye-
A glistening fantasy of bluish light
Shimmered as the water rushed by.
High on a hillside, fixing my stare-
An infinity of color came through-
A trickling spring, arrested by fate,
Broadcast its’ indigo hue.
Woven by grass by clever design,
Its’ icicles showing their smile-
The fragile Brooklet waited that day,
For springtime to be in style.
How curious that water crystals should stop my trek,
And accelerate my heartbeat anew-
While a million tiny pulses are locked in mid-air,
By winter’s frigid curfew.
Harold L. Overton
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