A canyon has words, too,
much more than echo, echo.
A canyon has steep walls
and an empty stomach,
a canyon has patience
that stretches for ages, eons,
much longer than the anger
of the river rushing through it.
A canyon has a history all its own,
is an independent ecosystem
with faults and flaws and fissures
separate still from the eddies they create.
A canyon has desire, has needs,
has miles and miles of dreams
unwinding along a path of hard resistance.