As I sit on my sturdy, rough-hewn bench,
so carefully constructed beneath this vast
canopy of aspen and spruce, I furtively scan
for my daughter's carved initials,
paired with her predestined soul mate.
Only indecipherable, random designs
of knotted aspen bark remain.
\We survived those bittersweet days, finding
refuge in this consecrated dwelling place,
behind rustic pine walls, as the fierce winds
of Centennial Ridge roared incessantly.
Our cabin burned down awhile back,
consumed by wanton neglect, as we were.
\Now the wilderness yields itself to vain,
frantic human endeavor, as I idly watch
this massive concrete foundation thrust
its way through these barren ashes.
Others will seek refuge here beneath
this vast canopy, come next spring.
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