Sunrise at Bryce Canyon

Poetry 1 Minute 
You're on the edge of a plateau overlooking a valley of hoodoos
dusted with remnants of yesterday's snowfall.
Predawn light is faint, cold; the air shivers in short gusts of wind.

In a century, the platform your feet are on will not be there,
eroded by air and water down the cliff face's arches
like frames of a cathedral's stained glass windows.

Published by M. Espinosa

He/they. I teach English at a junior high school in western Washington. Outside of work, I worry about a myriad of things and spend time outside.

Published

12 thoughts on “Sunrise at Bryce Canyon”

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