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Land robed in maroon and yellow
clumped with sagebrush
and casting to endless space...
Close-by the mountains and ridges seem to bestow,
like a hand raised, some unasked -for blessing...
Here small ducks sail placid ponds ringed by
little sand mounds, glistening like salt...
And stripped trees, their white-scalded pitchfork
branches claw a pure blue shell of sky...
Sheep, their heads bowed to grazing, are part of
a sight, a feeling we have all cried for...
A land of timeless majesty enfolding all
within its benevolence.
