in wreckage and in meek,

her sun-drenched home subsided

from on top the mountain peak

to a valley of no name to speak

i now bid you not to greet

me as a child, you without that smile

of smugness from a mountain

her reverie now outlasted

by the keepers of the valley

and laid rivers running through

on a path away from you

and no longer do we fear

a forlorn mountain view

Victor M. Garcia 1/26/09