Depths
Deep between the valleys
Between the crevices
And high mountains,
It is warm and chilly
Even if it is summer
And winds sweep the air,
Behind the forward slopes
My eyes feast on the mount,
Gazing lower the rivers
As its flowers bloom
In the onset of spring;
I smile as I see
The hilltops blooms
With new leaves
To greet the new season;
But alas, the coldness
Of winter still aches
As the ice thaws
As the river banks swells
To moisten the dry beds
Of the short winter.
A. P. Garcia
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