The Sleeping Ute
Toronto with its new sky scrapers
mixed with old buildings and CN tower,
Niagara Falls shrouded in mist and fog,
Montreal, lovely park with city overlook,
Quebec City, a slice of France
with cobble stone streets, quaint shops
and leftover Christmas decorations.
Then fly over Colorado mountain ridges.
When I see the Sleeping Ute,
the mountain they say
is a wounded warrior
arms across his chest,
feather at his head,
and even his knees and toes,
then I’ll know I’m home.
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