Poetry

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Colorado Comes to Me
Cathryn flowers Ritchie

Colorado comes to me,
early evening breezes
refresh the air.
Clouds frolicking
in the crispy blue of the Columbine.

I remember the aspen leaves'
love of following
running with the wind,
their translucent dresses
playing with forever green needles.

Atop the peaks of cotton, the gold rimmed horizon
streaking a sunset at the end of day
over majestic mountains (giving the word its meaning)

And the snow storm wore different outfits gentle powder of the angels
whirling-white-wind and wetness
thrashing icy rain-slush-snow flurries.

Though far away, Colorado
calls to me,
“Come home”.

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