Copper Falls

Copper Falls, WI

by Crystal Spring Gibbins

In my wild turning I part and join myself, meander a slow circle until I make way over rocks that lift me up to rejoice freedom! in a spray of wet confetti or liquid pearls. When I arrive in my deep-drop journey, my heart keeps beating— currents don’t end. I live to fracture and fissure glacier, rock, and ice. O to rip through the world!

Free Admission Day

September—Copper

by Diana Randolph

Falls State Park

Upon a log bench the young man sits. Oblivious to crowds passing by, his hand flies across the pad of composer’s paper on his lap.

Dabbing music notes on paper, keeping up with melodies in his mind, plucked from the whispering wind and caught from chords carried on golden-orange, sun-dipped leaves, sailing above, then falling to the brown earth. Harmonies heard only by the attuned ears of a songwriter.

Happy the Tree

by Mary Louise Peters

Happy the tree high on the hill, next to flat rock baked by strong sun under green capes of neighbor trees, sprayed with white mist from boiling creek swept by strong wind across steep slopes to water soft moss; tickle rough bark. Joy for each leaf that finds her home, delighting trees, blessing the blue, this endless sky, high on this hill. Happy the tree.