Rolled brimmed Stetson ground pointed.
eyes squintin'
Sand, too much sun.
Country too big, sky too vast.
Keep the volume low.
Uncountable grays and greens
accented by a slash cut
canyon of red sandstone.
A bold palate - not the coral and aqua
assigned by advertising shorthand.
Forever away horizons pierced by
Nature's cathedral spires.
an arid incubator for lizards, coyotes
and the human soul.
Take in just a bit at a time.
This is a land of little said -
much thought.
Natives sculptured by the West
grieve and hurt in silence;
then weep for the beauty
of the morning sun
creeping down the canyon wall,
or the yellow leaved quaken aspens
on the mountain side.
A hard land like a beautiful obsidian statue;
cold and unforgiving.
Still the beauty beckons,
almost transparent and laughing-
never conquered, yet always sought.
It is a great risk
to live on this fragile stage.
Too much sand, sun and sky.
So, squint hard.