At the rodeo the wild cheers still to a hush the sun slips away leaving a blush sky at rest above the mountains the song begins the people stand a cowboy leads a riderless horse and the flag waves in the wind. .
The mountains stand so tall— rugged rock against the sky. And You ask me to move them—why? You know my hands are small— they bruise and break and bleed with every strategy I try. And the mountains stand, unmoved. I have no mustard seed— I’ve looked, digging with my hands in my own dirt. And … Continue reading Mountain Moving