Peaks like
sharpened steel, warped from
thousands of
years of Colorado sun
trapping the
heat in this valley, a furnace
boiling away the
molecular remains of water that once
made this land
fertile, green, inviting. Water that
mere months
before capped those peaks in soft blue snow
two lane streets
hidden beneath ice, colder
than the bones
of those who first broke these grounds
Blanca’s shadow,
dark lines on farm land
like armored
walls, holding captive
peoples who
settled here, this valley of beauty, for protection from the world a new
start, home for
generations of
drop outs, basement dwellers,
inheriting the
house when momma dies of a heart attack
they all do,
it’s in the water,
it’s in the
valley
a gift from the
mountains—
a place to wait,
a place to call home
forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment