At Altitude

Patches of snow lay along the ridge-tops
Like silly little brush strokes
Placed there for no other purpose
Than to make you wonder why.
 
As the mountains grow,
So too the snowcaps,
Rising like Islands from a sea
Of greens and browns far below.
 
Wispy clouds create dark shadows
Upon the ground below,
Belying their
Assumed etherealness.
 
A blanket of clouds
Covers all in cottony softness
While above all is the spotless
Sapphire blue of the sky.
 
Rivers snake through the desert,
Leaving deep, jagged gouges
In the skin of the earth.
Scars left behind by dried up tributaries
Can still be seen clearly.
May they last forever.

Previously published in  Painting Pictures - Poeticals & Prosaics as J.L. Carruthers