Mud Lake Wind River Mountains
THE WIND
Lynn Thomas
Big Sandy
The wind, the wind
Flies fast to the mountain
Sings in chorus with white limbed aspen
Tumbles gold leaves through diamond dew
Hear the whispering wind.
The wind, the wind
Soothes the gray deer with its song
The forest speaks, the trees are alive
They shelter the flanks of the mountain
Hear the wild singing wind.
The wind, the wind
Moans and caresses green meadow grasses
Scatters high flying storm clouds
Which are gathered again to hide the mountain
Hear the flute playing wind.
The wind, the wind
Sighs as the pine tops sway in rhythm
Whistles through frosted red willows
Roars on its way to the mountain
Hear the clarion wind.
1 comment:
The photo of Mud Lake is so beautiful. I can feel the cool air on my skin, and the pine that whispers past my ear.
And your poem! How wonderful. I have experienced every word except the clairon trumpets. I have never been in the mountains when it was stormy enough to sound the clairon trumpets.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful poem. Did you write that this weekend?
Hope you had the most wonderful time. ~Judy~
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