El Morro

I climbed the rock of El Morro

To find the ruins of the Anasazi.

To see a place where children once laughed,

Where men once bragged,

And women once weeped.

There, on the rockface

Below on the walls,

Were scratched the names

Of hundreds of men.

Spanish explorers who swam in the pool,

Railroad employees, who once sought a route,

And a team of soldiers atop desert camels.

Today we came in wonder

To the cuesta of water and shade;

Tourists with camera and guidebook;

Rich in imagination,

But poor in hardship and toil.

We can hardly begin to appreciate

The value of this rock;

Beyond a pretty snapshot

To be put in a photograph book.

I climbed the rock of El Morro

And listened to the thunder,

And watched the gray sky darken,

As the drops began to fall.