Momentous Hour
A coyote wailing in the yellow dawn,
A mountain land that stretches on and on,
And ceases not till in the skies
Vast peaks of rosy snow arise,
Like walls of plainsman’s paradise.
I cannot tell why this is so;
I cannot say, I do not know
Why wind and wolf and yellow sky,
And grassy mesa, square and high,
Possess such power to satisfy.
But so it is. Deep in the grass
I lie and hear the winds’ feet pass;
And all forgot is maid and man,
And hope and set ambitious plan
Are lost as though they ne’er began.