Summer Out West

Days drift

on long summer shadows,

morning kisses,

simple whispers

of a million leaves’ secrets.


Clear sky,

powder blue,

swept wisps of tangled clouds

over the tops

of mountain walls,


in their veneration.


Straight trunked sentinel forest

gave way to long, lush prairie

on one side

and impossibly high cliffs

on the other.


Far and wide

as the eyes sees,

not a standard striking

a venerable silhouette,

but golden fields,

swaying to that same wind

that once licked off

the salty kiss of the Pacific.


Driven over the Rocky Mountains,

straddling their majesty.

One side of mind

on chasing voracious passions,

the other,

on the slow and careful nurture

of a simple life.


To dip

into the ocean

in the evening,

after a hard day’s toil

in the fields

and on the plains;

and seeing those old sentinels,

that make up the spine of the world.

It is good

to be home again.

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