by Keith Hornback

Created on: June 23, 2009

First Storm In The Canyon

When cross and laden gray clouds sit

About your holy rim

The sound of every living thing

A warm and soulful hymn

Does play upon the steely walls

And perch on every limb

Until the sound of something sharp

Cracks smartly from the din

A single yellow aspen leaf

Along your river spine

Let's out a shudder briefly

And succumbs unto the fine

Mist of a thousand echoed hours

And pauses to unwind

A season full of woody growth

A circles end of line.

Releasing into open air

Submissive to the flight

A broken string of icy beads

Shatters in delight.

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