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