Black Muddy River

When the last rose of summer pricks my finger
And the hot sun chills me to the bone
When I can’t hear the song for the singer
And I can’t tell my pillow from a stone
I will walk alone by the black muddy river
And sing me a song of my own -Grateful Dead

 

A photo from my walk today, near the black & muddy DuPage River

 

walkimg_3588

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