Where first came the Natives, the Missionaries, the Spaniards
the Tractors and the Tour Bus
Where Hollywood comes to film "wild"
Where very dark at night and stars still the primary
Could fit the whole town into the post office, and do
Could ski lift up from the mojave desert, and might
And now the waking town bright, the Costa Rica Dark
Porch Sitting, a sudden and much needed slowing down
Last night laughter resonates, chili songs and accomodates
From somewhere down the street singing "let it be"
Because Darlene I am your lost grandson is why
Because everyone says 12 inches on the way
Pass is closed. One thing we know is snow
One thing we never forget is roads
How tall can you build them? How high can you lean the ladder?
Never know what's changing till we leave
Never know what's coming when we're young, and just when we had it mapped and named - mystery white flurries from the blue sky came
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