Ripples In The High Water by Stray Poet | Mar 5, 2012 | Travel | 0 comments Sad soft ripples forget the hills upon which the snows fell. They run down the valleys into southerly forgetfulness. When these drops exit the lonely land via the great Mississippi; the journey begins again. -Ezra 41.878424-79.158911 Submit a Comment Cancel replyYour email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *Comment Name * Email * Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.