They stood shoulder to shoulder on the dusty land
one the color of dark molasses-the other a shade of Pacific sand
their families lived side by side beneath the mountains white
they rode the buggy into town dug up dishes & arrowheads from the barren ground
true friends beneath their white & brown hued skin
the world seemed far away kept at bay never to be let in
bright differences painted soft beneath that big sierra sky
she was moccasins & braided hair while the other was collared shirts & piercing eyes
there would come a day when they would walk
Wide paths apart down the narrow Inyo lane
Still they would remember the season of the young innocents
the outer banks had not yet claimed
Po
Ron
I would love to read more. Methinks we have a talented
story teller poet in our midst. We need to read more from
you, dear lady.
Love ya!
Jane
lovely, thought provoking read, well said
Never Stop Writing
m