Yellow Soil

O land of yellow soil,
Where sages grow.
Why do you sift past me,
And wild winds blow?

What must I do,
To turn your valve?
Know you not that to me,
You are like a salve?

Your touch to me,
Makes me to feel.
That hurt is gone,
Now is the time to heal.

Because...once I was a child,
And I ran my fingers through.
The sand where I played,
Where sweet attachment grew.

And just to see you lying,
As I softly stroll.
You are to me enrichment,
And an ointment to my soul.


E.P. 1908 - 1989


Photo taken on the east side of Castle Rock in the Castle Rocks State Park - Almo, Idaho, USA