Grand Canyon In Color

Of the many-colored days, Rose yellow evenings, Red mornings and the hours When all the hills Are low and round like grapes Amber and purple-juiced, And the leaf-colored earth Pulses with light like sap. Now I know where they go, Touching Sandia, Jemez, and San Francisco Peaks, Wing and wing to the west. They are on their way to the Grand Cañon. There they lie, overlapping In motionless unreality. All the dim blue dawns, The lost twilights, hyacinth-hued, Cuddle down in the cleft, Old as the world And all it's many-colored days. The Grand Cañon by Mary Austin