‘Tis brightness to be young
And in love with your beauty.
‘Tis power to be young
And in love with your strength.
‘Tis laughter to be young
And in love with your future.
‘Tis easy to be young
And in love with your reflection.

‘Tis grace to be old
And in love with life’s beauty.
‘Tis courage to be old
And in love with your scars.
‘Tis bold to be old
And in love with your history.
‘Tis brightness to be old
And in love with your love’s reflection.

Sad sentinels
Alone and lonely
The encampment long gone
That once their ancestors guarded

Where now the bears, the wolves
Antelope, elk, moose
And the people
Who hunted them
Lived on their bounty
All gone

The mountains remain
High on the horizon
Beyond these new hills
These strange straight crowded
New hills

Rank upon rank
Of these new hills
And the once new people
Who made them

Felling the forest
Killing the old people
Burying their land in concrete and steel
Until only these few remain

These sentinels of memory
Hanging on
Never thriving but
Never dying
These city trees