ribbons 'neath the clouds,
winding through the canyoned way,
snaking around the hindering
of trees and scrub on narrow
Ridges of sand and clay
thrust defiantly upward,
but fall far short to sway
the silvered metal wings I sail.
And down there, in cutting creases,
fluttering sunned surfaces impale
verdant earthen tapestries,
to reach some far off destination
for those who trust and float upon
silver ribbons 'neath the clouds.
Grandfather Mtn -Christmas 1998