Yosemite

The mountains were climbing

towards the shaded sun. 

The air was so clean 

my throat felt sore. 

 

The ice melted 

its creamy velvet snow once blanketing the ground.

It was hot in the daylight 

but at dawn it would be chilling.

 

The fires were crackling 

burning the reminiscence of fallen trees. 

Hugging cold children

crowding the fireplace.

 

There was a dark message flowing

the moon was trying to speak. 

This area was a velvety black, 

the trees blocking the sky. 

 

Bunnies hopping 

between the bushes

where the poison berries lay. 

Hot chocolate can burn your tongue

cafes with warm auras pull you in.

 

Yosemite is the town 

of hopes and dreams.

But the tall mountains 

Wonder and scream. 

 

“Climb me, feel the victory, 

flow through your veins!” 

Adrenaline can suffocate you. 

 

But the beautiful views 

Of magnetic majestic waterfalls

Will cure your pain.

The Prowler • Copyright 2024 • FLEX WordPress Theme by SNOLog in