Up through the branches

The stars shine above

On the arroyos

And mesas you loved

And as the moon rises

The black mountain mourns

For the old friend

He'll look on no more.



Jacks-in-the-Pulpit

Bones in the sky

Long winding rivers

That never ran dry

And the secrets she gathered

From the wild blowing sands

Breathed in her heart

And her hands.



I sing to your spirit

Where all my dreams dwell

The vision--the freedom

The life lived so well

And I sing in your canyons

And the echoes ring clear

And I wish somehow

You may still hear.