Over time you'd carved out space.
Your current eroding my toughest stone.
Gutting me for all to see.
For so long I'd forgotten what it was like to be without you,
But you put up dams and barriers, diverting your water;
and now, Colorado, you've dried up.
Sometimes it'd rain and I thought that you might return.
After so much time together we became synonymous.
How would I exist without you?

Now I know.
You may have cut deep into me.
Leaving your mark for all to see.
They still come for me, even when you're gone,
To look upon my beautiful layers and vibrant colors.


The pit you whittled out is vast but you could never fill what was.
I'm left with nothing but the dry, harsh heat.
Don't come back to this canyon.
There's no room.