Grand Canyon Memory

I stand on the edge of memory
remembering one night of beauty
of laughter and freedom.
We were so young and thought
it would always be so.

We flew down the road like
swallows through the air.
Then suddenly
the moon broke from behind the clouds
and the canyon was at our feet
Awestruck silence

The snow become tiny jewels
dusting the cleft of Mother Earth.
It was not the cold that stole our breath.
Crass young champions such as we
humbled by creation.

But not for long.

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