Boulder To Aspen
I left Friday midmorning for a weekend getaway
A four-hour jaunt to Aspen; just wanted to play
No purpose for the trip; just for the experience
New to Colorado, I desired to feel its sense.
If you would care to come along with me,
Continue reading and hear my song of glee.
As I turned onto the road to Idaho Springs
My heart leaped and I began to gently sing.
What is it about a mountain stream
That takes away thought and brings back the dream?
What is it about the pine trees growing so tall
Straight up from sheer rocks with no soil at all?
What is it about driving higher and higher into the sky
Being able to look the mountain top right in the eye?
What is it about the sudden appearance of a mountain lake
That takes my breath away and causes me to shake?
What is it about the snow-covered peak standing guard
Over the bosom of its canyon now filled with cars?
What is it about blue ice on the high mountain creek
That takes away all the words that I wish to speak?
What is it about seeing the Arkansas River in high Colorado?
Perhaps realizing the connectivity of water’s everlasting flow.
What is it about seeing a train moving through the mountain forest
That reminds me of all the pioneers and natives who came before us?
What is it about seeing a giant dove in a cloud formation
When I am only twenty-two miles from my destination?
Feeling the oneness of earth, man, and sky as I drive,
Just what is it that now makes me heave a big sigh?
It is the road sign that says, “Indy Pass closed for the winter”
Can you hear the screeching howl of my whine and my whimper?
Taking a deep breath, I turn slowly around; there’s no other choice.
Retracing 100 miles now with a noticeably different voice.
The road now becomes the coiling serpent of asphalt
For I have lost my serenity and centered gestalt.
The roadside streams are just more water that flows.
Why was the road closed, there isn’t even any snow?
Finally my humor returns as I enter the Glenwood Canyon.
How could I not be happy viewing this majestic companion?
Wearily, now I limp into Aspen at just after dusk.
Navigating the rotary is an exercise in trust.
All worth it, I must say as I drive into the town
White lights twinkling their greetings to me all around.
Found my hotel easily. The room is grand; I shall not moan
Over a little misadventure I can share with those back home.
Copyright © Margie Boehmer | Year Posted 2008
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