Josh Moore Colorado

Hail nails the skin. Wind stabs the spine, the mountain stretches, breath freezes the tongue, Snow visible on the summits High-altitude crumbling cracked hands claw at dry stone, Paper thin air sharp, jagged edges. Bald Eagles circle overhead Alpine sky, dry and broken— no more Earth Day vegetation Cherry Creek scrapes the sand She lifts the bedpan Chapped gloss superstar lips Cocoa fur, stained by cigarette smoke and the wind carries all, The Zephyr rolls in Grand Central Station Peaks in background