cold winds blow through the valley
chilling the paths and trails on which
we walk for exercise... none of us are
walking now since the weather has
changed to a wintery mixture of ice
and rain... and darkness descends
into the valley that the storms avoid
because of the mountains... we are
the descendants of the children of
the parents who settled the valley
all those years ago when their horse
drawn wagons appeared on the north
side moving south in a futile attempt
to find the pot of gold they were told
was at the end of the rainbow... and,
when they valley showed them her
spring colors, they believed they had
finally found their illusive pot of gold.
11 February 2023
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