Red Rock Canyon

       By Maloa Current Read

My mind recalls some times near to my heart.
I run to cross the creek and railroad tracks.
And press my toes in pink sands at the start
     Of Red Rock Canyon

Then on my left a level table land
Is stretching drearily to pigeon caves.
Not like the further splendor in command
     Of Red Rock Canyon

Great blocks of quarry appear on my right.
The sandstone used for buildings great and small.
Hand climb the rocks and revel in the sight
     Of Red Rock Canyon

Scrub oak, adjoining pines, are all around.
Tendrils of green creep up in russet slabs.
Some likeness to Gods’ Garden can be found
     In Red Rock Canyon

Don’t pave the paths, open to squirrels and deer.
Nor let it be a bustling thoroughfare.
But contemplate the wealth of nature here
     In Red Rock Canyon

And when the canyon’s bathed in morning sun
See azure mountains hug the clefted one.


Editor’s note: Read, 87, has lived on the Westside since 1917. Her poem in part recalls memories of visits to the canyon as a child.