Grand Mountain !
Rising high amongst blue Allegheny Peaks.
Thunder crashes rumble forever
disappearing into scenic peaks surrounding.
Sun and Fog.
Grand Mountain.
Strung with wires and cables, big machines,
empty chairs.
Winters they spray water on your shores
to lure the people.
Dead Spruce.
Grand Mountain.
Below you Beaver dammed.
Large Trout swam alone.
Now the Builders have their pond, the Beaver
ponds now removed.
Flowing Rivers.
Grand Mountain.
Bluffs edged with little row houses.
Endless sounds of beeping bulldozers.
If They build it They will come.
They did.
Ode to Snowshoe Resort
Allegheny Echoes Workshop
© June 1997 Robert F. Gates