From up here in the long steep hills to the west
The village is tucked out of sight, mostly
A few tall roofs and some trees are all
The eye can see and elsewhere it’s more hills
Cypress Hills, the start or the end of them
Depending on your point of view
There’s just me and the gophers here today
They gave squeaky airy hoots
To warn their buddies of my arrival
They’ve certainly taken over the place
The gophers in the graveyard
The deer in the village but it’s all nature’s way
We lived, we gave birth, we loved, we suffered
We are beloved or at peace or silent on the matter
Some of us remain a mystery, reticent with details
We are a name with a date of birth, another for death
One, I was pleased to see, laughed often & loved much
And one other, a rancher is far-seeing...
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