they mountains

the days the wind blow extra hard
the mountains look extra blue

i could rhyme off that but
fuck it. no.

picked two blades of grass today:
one brown
one spring
i say spring but
i saw green.
hope.

today the wind blow extra hard
they mountains is extra blue

i drive. i look down the road
over the hills and far away
(as it were)
and today i see.
extra blue.

i see mountains.
over the hills and far away.

but not so far away.
and i see the mountains and i know
waiting
i’ll be there
i’m coming.

the plains, once barren
desolate
brown
boring

now the plains, still barren
desolate
everbrown
draw me and fill me. fill me full and overflowing. lead me to the mountains. are the mountains. blue. and brown.

maybe.
maybe i once was right and now am wrong.
you can tell me that they ugly–
they baren, desolate and brown.
but i’ll tell you that they home.
and you know home is beautiful.

i picked two blades of grass today
their veil of snow removed
one was brown but one was green.
spring, hope is on its way.