Canyon Dream

Deep deep down

That canyon is still there

Beneath bayou mud

And autumn snow

 

Her river runs

Within my blood

To never reach

The sea

 

Salt Cedar

Cheat grass

And Vegas

Suck her dry

 

And I

May never

See her there

Again

 

Now I only see

These weekend cowboys

Who’ve never seen a drive-way

Much less a drive

 

And fools who curse

The BLM

In states

It has no land

 

This canyon runs

Deep within me

Beyond the hundredth

And far beyond your mind

 

 

 

photography from across America

 

This entry was posted in American History, Colorado, hiking, nomad life, park and recreation, Poetry, social commentary, Social Justice, the american west, The Wandering Yankee, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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