Sometimes I miss home.
The mountains, the air,
The strong familiar scent of animals conducting their business.
I can feel my heart tugging at my soul,
Longing for the peace desert life brings.
Moving is hard.
But every so often,
On the outskirts of the city.
In a distant parking lot,
Adjacent to the corn,
You can see the mountains glow.
Mountains that stretch beyond the height of the clouds.
They stand massive, impressive, impossible.
Glowing, orange cotton candy clouds fill the distance between each valley.
The sun refracts off wet Colorado rocks like glass crystals.
Deep blue. Shinning glory. All of them, monuments in their own uniqueness.
They stand proud, tall. Unbothered.
Heavy rain clouds fill the evening sky.
Only the force of one billion fires can pierce through the black veil.
Pink, yellow, orange, and gold rays of hope break through the distance.
A double rainbow extends behind me over the bowling ally.
A small gift,
These pastel rays of light.
Turning back to the city skyline,
I remember love.
I feel free.
I feel home.