A. G. SHIMMEL
BESIDE a bubbling mountain stream.
Where stately paper-birches sway
To every vagrant breath of air.
We pitched our tent again today.
And now that night, its shades has spread;
It's good to sit here in the light.
And smell wood-smoke and see the flames
Burn shining holes into the night.
It's good to be back here again
Away from cities lights and sounds.
And hear the voices of the night
As Mother Nature makes her rounds.
-- Dr. Todd