Lonely Canyons

Terry Murphy

Cold north winds swept
through the lonely canyons,
summer and its heat,
its passions now spent
lie forgotten

Once soft waters transformed
frozen hard and brittle,
Jeering laughter in the gust,
mock the fissure walls
and life slows down again.

Special light that once danced,
has dimmed in the solstice,
solitary shadows lengthening
its final season come
and consumed in the chill.

What cruel path and unmerciful fate
led me to this callous chasm?
I have succumbed into its folds,
trudging into the journey,
isolated in a lonely canyon home.

The 2River View, 2_1 (Fall 1997)