watching the moon high in Colorado sky
I started writing this out in the dark of the night

waiting for dawn to bring on a "Home"
that the tree-top blue reminds me of .

A silent song plays in my head ,
thoughts and memories drift like fog on the wind .

painting a picture with words to express
untamed, unnamed feelings that boil in the breast .

It sings sometimes . . .
from the corners of her eyes ,
the warm glow of the west .