Ute Pass Poem by James Andrews

Escaped my home, constricting me,
Up the pass, above the city lights
To the valley of my dreams.

No sight, no light, no other but the stars,
The constellations arching,
Hobbit windows glowing in the darkness.
Found safety in the far aloneness,
Lingered, drifted,
Then came back toward you.

I called you from a phone booth,
Woodland Park.
'I don't know where I am', I said.
'Come to me', you said.

You smelled of soap and sleep.
'What do you want? ', you asked.
Just you. To hear your even breathing in my sleep,
Then, in the morning, having dreamt you,
I will go.

I never breathed you fully in that morning.
I only felt your back rise into me.
And hold your liquid scent until today.

You didn't wake.

My road continues down the mountain.