MOUNT SIGNAL
I could barely see your face today
Shrouded in your mist of grey.
'Round your shoulders a frothy cloak
Spawned of pollution, dust and smoke.
Ah—but you have known a better day
When the valley there before you lay.
And simple people with gentle ways
Respected the deserts warm winter days.
And gathered from the desert floor
Food for the long winters store.
And made their trails to distant lands
Across the deserts burning sands.
But now it's asphalt trails they lay
And the dunes are only used for play
While cities creep and belch and spew
To disperse pollution's froth on you
All the while you stand, alone, serene.
And only I, can hear, —your silent scream.
©1994 Stacy Vellas May 1st