Through the night I rode five buses, from the St. Vrain to Aspen

A town of resorts and riches, of Ritz Carlton and Mercedes Benz

I am not kin, a city kid

I struggle with depression

But struggle for necessities does not claim my life

Officers have dignity toward me because my skin is white

In the summer rain, at 13 thousand, underneath the Colorado sky

Garcia’s solo, cool air

Ice and snow melt to reveal a maroon-colored peak

I’m reliving the Dead’s tour through this place

Red Rocks, 1978

In 2018

I ran off to the mountains

For a weekend, I wanted to escape

And saw colors I hadn’t seen before

The mountains are no longer a diamond necklace strung out on the skyline

I am on the ascent, I circle mountains upward, toward the center of the watershed

The landscape reminds me of Lord of the Rings

Am I the young white boy holding the ring?

Through the day, the sun gleams like a diamond

White people have looked too long and become blind to violence

By the evening the sun is red like bloodshed

It is too late

They killed for their wealth and for this very watershed

This planet gravitates around wealth

I gravitate toward the peak

The streams below me are silver brocade

And through the day, the sun gleams like a diamond

White people have looked too long and become blind to violence

By the evening the sun is red like bloodshed

It is too late

They killed for their wealth and for this very watershed

Before the Grateful Dead tour was a trail of tears

I turn off Garcia’s solo to listen to my fears

And the Maroon Bells begin ringing in my ears

I took a tour, I looked out on the world

The iced-out peaks were beautiful

I saw the maroon rock beneath

And began to understand

Generations of bloodshed mixed with soil made this maroon color

Genocide is in the world, communities are plagued by famine

Military, prison, and epidemic profiteers are in control

Profiteers who vacation in Aspen

Have so much control

Of countrysides, and beneath city street lights

We take the lives of sisters and brothers, of mothers and fathers

I ran off to the mountains

For a weekend

To a diamond necklace as large as the Rockies, too large for anyone’s grasp

I saw colors I hadn’t seen before

I ascend, look out, and uncomfortably begin to understand

This is Lord of the Rings, I’m holding the ring

Why are we unwilling to push the rock up the hill?

It is time to return home

To reflect on the ring’s power in the presence of others