That Mountain

This one, specifically:

Phoenix’s east valley is dominated by the Superstition Mountains, a range that, unlike the Rockies, is a great square block of jagged peaks for miles. The one in the photo is the edge, looming over Apache Junction. It has, as far as I can find, no name, which boggles, don’t it?

Continue reading “That Mountain”


But Not Faded

you might think it’s in pretty rough shape
it’s wrinkled and tattered and torn
it’s patched up in places with old yellow tape
it’s folded and creased and well-worn

our love makes quite a picture
of the beautiful life that we share
like an old photograph, right here in my heart
but not faded; it’s just seen some wear

yeah, it’s folded in half, down the middle
stuck with tape so it don’t come apart
two smiling faces together
the two of us, joined at the heart

our love makes quite a picture
of the beautiful life that we share
like an old photograph, right here in my heart
but not faded; it’s just seen some wear

it’s with me wherever I go
though the edges are ragged and frayed
’cause it keeps getting clearer as time passes by
and I know that it won’t ever fade

our love makes quite a picture
of the beautiful life that we share
like an old photograph, right here in my heart
but not faded; it’s just seen some wear