dark places

home is dark 

tons of blue green waters

pressing the disk into sands

that never see the light of day 

but this is darkness 

subterranean 

no home for a sand dollar 

silence unbroken 

far from joyful dolphins 

or somber whales 

still creatures live here 

friendly with the night 

alien to a pilgrim 

only passing through 

a cave that goes on and on

larger than any on earth 

full of rooms forgotten and found 

once the abode of many waters 

running to the sea

now only condensation remains 

in mammoth caverns 

under tons of loamy dirt

no home for light 

miles to go

the miles roll into the thousands 

as the asphalt ribbon ebbs and flows

waving fields of grass bend and bow

before the wind with few trees to break 

silence lives in the middle of nowhere 

heavy as the billowing clouds at dusk 

testimony to words unspoken 

a life unlived in exchange for endless sky

the promise of no walls to constrict 

compensation for no arms to enfold

the plains keeps their secrets well

only a few know the allure and reward

of horizons that never disappoint

satisfaction in relentless labour 

oblivion to restless millions captured 

by the concrete prisons that are never still

stillness is a gateway to eternal peace 

a glimpse of something yet to come 

as the miles roll into the thousands 

the Snake

winding never still it flows

from eastern mountain valleys 

through canyons depths 

unparalleled in all the world 

it curves and twists and springs

serpentine as its namesake 

making its home with determination 

through unforgiving terrain 

until it dives holding nothing back 

into the vast seas of endless waters 

shedding the shores like skin

never to return the same way

Ain’t it grand!

Blue mountains, Wallowa peaks! The late summer sunshine beats down on lazy streets in the small town with an aspiring name. La Grande. The quaint scenic main street showcases iconic brick buildings and historic marquees, while side streets host a 100 year old fire station and stately train station, which Amtrak stopped serving ages ago. The sand dollar lingers at the mural on Fir Street, testimony to the real grandiosity of the location of the city: a semi-encircling vista of rising mountains lush with evergreens.