A Grand Canyon, I: ‘combin back her long yellow hair, her cheeks were as red as a rose’ – bgtanyas

the old rusted rocks,
cold and covered in
snow-splatters across that
precipice,
bring forth the evergreen
not as likely seen on summer days,
and as the sun can’t sink
to shove off shadow,
the old Colorado teases us
to think she plays dead,
but instead, she lies
alive and in search
of even one grain of dirt
to conquer
what the Sol Invictus could not.

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