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When my son is older I hope he takes with him, a little of the wisdom that Florence and the River have so graciously offered.
...Yet one last trace is still visible from the village docks; a single tower that stands alone.
As it all slows down, I start to measure time in sunrises and sunsets, in breakfasts and lunches and dinners...
He said, “You’re wondering where I’ve been and what I’ve seen with these old eyes,if I’ve met the beast of legends who would make the bravest prize.”
When I saw the "River" running down the middle of a stunning piece of fine furniture. I immediately wanted to know how this was done, and what the story was behind it.
I wrote this poem for my son Lee, who is now 8. He loves the River! It's simple, but I think anyone who loves the Thousand Islands readily identifies with it....