The river runs from mountains standing tall
To loll and wind through my green valley here.
The birds sing music, notes together fall
From trilling hummingbirds and shy killdeer.
The water stirs reflections of the sky
And mountains, snow-capped still in summer’s light.
They shimmer as the water addles by
Distorting rugged canvas of delight.
As cool, clear riv’lets tumble over stones
Made smooth from years of slow erosion’s course,
A small fish darts about the reeds and hones
Its swimming prowess 'gainst the current's force.
In all the stunning, lovely sights as these,
I wonder still: Where did I drop my keys?
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