A Walk Through Loveland Pass

Sitting at the foot of mountains,
Staring up at their smoke-spewing faces
Wearing low-necked tree T-shirts.
The Union Pacific crawling by jagged, stacked rockwalls,
      And trees, sunflower yellow and rust-orange
I toss a stone across the glossy top of the river,
Flowing back to the west.
The rain drops lightly from dark, menacing clouds
The light air tastes clean and feels cold on my skin.
A mountain goat knocks lose stones,
    That fall and roll and seem as if they'll never stop,
Bouncing into the thin veil of trees.