YEARNING

I've worked in your cities

And stood in its lines.

Worked in your mountains,

Dug coal from its mines.

But there's a place in my dreams

That I'll always see

And a place in my heart

That yearns to be free.

Let me run like the wind

Through the field of wildflowers.

Let me watch the bald eagle

As she soars in the sky.

Let me taste the sweet water

From a clear mountain spring.

And let me hear the soft music

Of the quaking aspen. 

© Alan Winters