Rocky Mountain Song
My imagination drifts with your voice
On that crystal-clear ocean.
Then something catches hold of
My sense of wonder;
My ten-year-old voice quests with yours
For the good ship Calypso.
We sing to its spirit.
You follow the eagle and the hawk
On the hunt over the Rockies.
But your voice is suddenly silent.
You would say there is blood on your feathers,
And, finally escaping your human form,
You meet the fate of Icarus.
© Teresa Cochran