In a drift of sage
your smooth bones remain,
rusted bark gone
along with your life of leaves.
I would have liked to ride
in the stage that made its way
to Santa Cruz,
this low mountain pass
more than just a day hike then,
when you grew
young and fast.
One response
• Mikaela, March 23, 2013 at 1:05 pm
A nice slow ride along the mountains on a sunny day—sounds dreamy!