BY DANIEL RUSH
COPYRIGHT ã 1992
Waters placid and cool,
Trod upon relentlessly by the masses.
Purposely, without an eye for beauty.
A photographer’s eye captures its grace,
While few feel it’s wide-open space.
So many go by watching their step,
The moss slick rock and all the creatures that have crept.
Know so little of boundaries and laws,
They can only know things within the grasp of their claws.
But as mankind conquers all quiet places on earth,
They must learn it’s an invasion of the creature’s home and hearth.