Foothill Heavens In  July

The northern
cold
rocky spine of the wind
sings me to sleep
fat drops of rain freckling the stones
late night song soaked in violent violet lights from the west.

The rain sings about canadian girls.
Canadian girls with their warm sweaters knit from old old secrets that are only told on cold july nights " Fall fall asleep" they say
"Fall fall asleep" they whisper
And Fall looms
It's just around the corner.

And As I slept I dreamt of the outlines of the mountains,
I dream of home,
I dream of the dead.
I dream of the immortal,
the future voyages and the golden sunsets
that I'll pack up in my old suitcase to bring home with me.
When I woke up there was fresh snow covering the foothills of the heavens.
I woke up and there was magical white secrets falling steep deep in a dull day of july .
 When I woke up there was snow in the foothill heavens and the canadian girls were laughing.
Oh the canadian girls were laughing.