red dust into sky

Vermillion and crimson emerge around me

With an unceremonious grandeur

Some like daggers, jutting into tumultuous sky

Others stay flat, the tabletop mesas

That had invited thousands of lives before mine.

Those who left behind their homes for me

to contemplate, centuries later.

 

The sun makes her way west,

illuminating the peaks and ridges.

Flares of gold strike through red dust.

A storm lingers on the other side

And I hear thunder and see streaks

of lightning and rain.

Clouds and the sun battle over the canyon bed,

the aftermath of war a spinning array of color.

 

Below me the canyon lays vast and deep

as it has for millions of years before any of us

and as it will when we are gone.

When we are ashes and dust and forgotten

the red will remain and still reach for the sky.

 

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