We were losing ourselves in the mountains of Colorado,
racing along the winding roads in our black Toyota. The snow-capped peaks wore the clouds like
halos and seemed to change form as we wrapped around them. The tufts of snow tucked away on the hills injected
the spring air with an icy chill that enlivened our senses and got our blood
pumping once again after a sleepy, Midwestern winter. The Limber Pines showed deep and green with
their heavy branches brushing against the soft tips of the new grass. The fuzzy-antlered elk fed on wild flowers
next to a restaurant’s roadside, Conestoga billboard, and we slowed our pace
arms out the window
our hands making tall wavelengths
in the Aspen air
