Just west of Parachute, snowcrust Rockies
wrapping our backs, we rustle through thick sage,
wade into the Colorado, spring breeze
and river flow chilling us. At this stage
of our journey, we’ll pause a while, admire
long raw mountains, air nicking our nostrils
like ice crystals. Soon we’ll spark a campfire
on stark shore, season beef patties to grill.
After lunch, we’ll trek to the old Chevy,
rumble Garfield County down to Rifle,
study cattle herds, the Roan Cliffs’ heavy
beard. With dusk approaching, we’ll both stand still
as monuments, adore distant towers,
how falling sun floods them with vast power.
Roger Armbrust
April 3, 2013
