to Jeanne
I am a Utah girl, of desert winds,
Hiking ochre foothills wild with scrub oak,
Heat thrumming with the locust's summer song.
In the wide expanse of the valley fields
Horses bend their heads, swish their tails, the sun
Gleams on their graceful backs and high grasses.
Cottonwood trees tall and shaggy shadow
A shallow stream slipping on rounded stones,
In a quiet pool flit water skaters
On ripples of earth, stone, leaf, and bluest
Sky, spread wide above the Rocky Mountains.
There I climb up piney trails to meadows
Of brilliant green and blooming wild flowers.
The Indian Paintbrush's flame of red,
Lupine of deepest blue, shining yellow
Buttercups, and tiny pink-edged daisies.
From here the peak rises craggy and gray,
Snow on the ragged ridge, in crevices,
Nestling on the shaded northern slope,
Where courses a narrow waterfall straight
To a profound lake, boulders rounding it,
The waters crystal clear, deep down to black.
Into this water cold as snow I leap
With a laugh and a shout; just keep moving,
And the swimming is great, and the beauty.