Colby Trail
There is a sweet and solemn place
away up in the canyon,
along the ridge’s southern face,
where the redroot’s blooming.
The air is hot and hazy thick
with the smell of summer,
the grass is ripe and sweet to pick
in gold and green and amber.
The insects murmer high and light
a humming and a popping,
the sky is lit up low and bright
and peace is gently falling.