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Chasing the sun
I forget my obligations
I am now a traveler
between the wind and the peaks. 

Like old dogs teeth,
organic layers with evidence
of glaciation and orogeny,
invite me to survey below
like a hawk lurking from above. 

Where the bison once roamed,
the valleys are trimmed with farmland.
Orange and red hues contrast
against the fall green grass. 

Peppered with evergreens,
like freckles on my brother’s face,
skeleton trees wave to me,
pulling me closer to the setting sun’s
beams peeking through their few golden leaves
hanging on with determination. 

What I love most about the mountains is
that you will never see the same mountain twice.
It’s always changing, always showing. 

I look once more,
just around the mountain bend,
where what I dream may
come for me.