"Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity..." --John Muir, 1898

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Meditation: Poem

Indelible

You called me a Sunset once
Miles from town
On the banks of the reservoir
Full of last year’s water and
Simmering with twilight
You looked at me expectantly
Or so it seemed
Waiting for words that never came
Drawing word pictures in your gorgeous mind
To keep you company
As the night settled in
Hard and cold

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