In Freshet Time

Rondeau

In freshet time the waters tread
With crafty foot a foreign bed,
On shores whose outlines come and go
As falls or swells the overflow,
The teasel lifts its ragged head
In freshet time.

The turbid river, mountain-fed,
Laughs while the sun warms overhead,
The thawing flats all spongy grow,
In freshet time.

Drenched sedges trail with stems outspread
O'er driftwood waterlogged and dead,
The field-mouse burrows deep below,
The wary muskrat plunges low,
And willows turn from grey to red
In freshet time.
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