Pink sand drifts over a dirt two track
road that leads to the end 
of the Earth. It continues on, 
past sagebrush and over 
cattle guard with complacent 
cows that gather by a bin of water, 
bumping along the rim of the canyon 
cluttered with rocks that once 
fell during a rain. It disappears over
the slickrock. My friend is singing
to the clever raven flying—her voice
drifting into the silence filled only
with the dry breeze. I follow her,
squeezing the bitter juice from a blade
of Mormon tea with my teeth. 
Will she drift on without me 
like the wispy clouds?
We walk past an old cedar tree. 
As we descend, the silence of the 
evening sun thrums through the canyon. 
Pause with me in the river 
before we're swept away
and resume our rushing.

Follow My Blog

Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.