A top the ridge I sit

The meadow below I live

The sun setting in the west shines new perspective on the eastern mountain tops

The color of gold

a sight with all the riches can't be sold

 

The Columbia River or Lake Roosevelt from the damn that changed our old ways to new so that we stay in power, snakes down the vally of old

 

I sit here to contemplate my anger

but the blood suckers won't surrender

They've got me beat.

So against my wishes, I must retreat