This is a controlled demolition

Cather Chronicle III

A silhouetted skirt floats a quarter
mile away against the "something
blue" sky. And I've always been
on the side of tradition because
I envy its staying power.

Butter-colored mariposas flit from
one sun-stained flower to the
next. And, for a moment, they
match the concrete path before
a celestial mountain causes the
shadows to spread, yellow fading
to gray.

And I know from experience
that beyond this deep, green
slope, there's just another slope.
Then another, then another,
spreading out like miles of
solid ocean. Perhaps emerald
fades to lime and back to
the thick shades of forest, but
mostly it's all the same.

It's the kind of majesty that
reminds you what living is. And
even if you don't think you
need reminding, you probably do.
It's hard to know what's missing
when it exists in so few a space.