In the folds of the hills
and hollows
of my mind,
I remember a time
when you were free.
You were of the sweetest color
known to me.

No man could catch you;
I'm not even sure we tried.
It was such a sight
just to watch you
spread your wings.

Like a bird
you could fly
circles so high,
blue as the sky,
and free as the wind.

I knew someday
you would leave,
fly away,
no longer free;
my mountain bird
on a breeze.

r ~ 6/30/14