I have returned!
Well, almost...
Once again my feet
Are trodding
On western soil
And I am breathing
The clean, rarified air
Of the Pacific Northwest.
It's not Wyoming,
But it is so close,
Much closer
Than I have been
In years.
Soon I will revisit
Vast stands
Of quaking aspens
And cottonwood trees,
And perhaps I will again see
Herds of bison
And elk.
How my heart leapt
When my plane
Touched down in Denver!
I was only there
A couple of hours
Yet I felt it sing
For the first time
In years.
Soon
I will see Montana, and oh!
How will I ever return to Tennessee
When my spirit cries piteously
For the mountains and plains
Of the American west?
Reminds me of John Denver, who sang praises of West Virginia, only to settle in Colorado. I hope to get back to both wonderful places including the Pacific Northwest, soon.
Sounds like a free spirit has taken charge of you, Rebecca, nothing at all like the "Change" poem, which I read, but it was so negative i didn't comment on it.
At the heart of the eight compelling nonfiction stories and five-article appendix which make up Dreams of the Immortal City Savannah is this interesting question: What would your life mean if you were living someone else's dream of what it should be?
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I've yet to see a Bison nor an Elk in the wilderness
maybe one day I will....
Peace be with you
William
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Ron