Ghost Mountains

It's winds remembers names of those who vanished ages ago ancient hills locals claim are mountains Time itself has reduce them to piles of boulders slowing seceding survival thin trees stick up and brush and sage populate slopes just bumps on the surface of a hard land Some natural streams flow into man made lakes plenty of elk and deer and introduce buffaloes Bald eagles dip into the horizon many birds and critters abound more by evidence than sight Trails for hiking and biking rustic land with the beauty of a southwest prairie skirting the edge of mountains feet and dotted with farmland People here are rough and earthy is the landscape beauty with the simplicity of life Weather feels dry and winds common tough standing your ground as time wears you away layer by layer, rolling boulder by boulder Pebble houses litter in spots abandon and crumbling as the mountains themselves From heaps to dust as they rust The bleeding dimness of dusk sinks into the mountains mouth as darkness cloaks, the bright moon a nightlight for nature stars twinkle as animals feed in the safety of shadowland Dawn's fingers poke through the night as stillness resumes another day breaks forth over these sleepy hills and a steady breeze whispers names of long ago Time itself fades these mountains into oblivion as petals of wildflowers swirl in the wind waving goodbye.