rain comes down upon the range,
and something strange befuddles
all the people passing through:
the sight of rusty puddles.
in all those pools of opaque orange,
an iron oxide’s found–
it seeps into the water here
up from the rusty ground.
and yes, year after year, that rust
into our world seeps;
perhaps someday we’ll rust away–
i’ve heard it never sleeps.
–photo by me
michaeljordahl 
Quite the process. It makes for a nice reflection!
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Thank you, Sandy!
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great poem, Michael; this is a ‘keeper’; bookmarked immediately 🙂
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Thank you, John! I wasn’t too sure about it, but your comment is encouraging!
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Nice one Michael. Have a wonderful day.
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Thank you, and have a great day, Tia!
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I’m having Internet trouble. Hope you haven’t gotten the same message from me several times. I love today’s photo and words. The puddle looks like our Alabama red clay puddles. I look forward to your words and photos each day. You intrigue me. Happy wanderings!
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Thank you so much, Lane, I enjoy yours as well! Have a great day!
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