Burnt Cabin Summit
Where the earth flattens
In a neat little square
A cabin once stood, no trace
But a few bits of rust
Mysteries of what they were
A mule shoe?
A tin can?
All else lost in fire.
Where the earth slopes
Wild onions pierce the sand
Remnants amid sage
That undulates in waves
Toward the far range
Purple mauve
Rosy alpenglow
Depending on the light
Filteres through dust
Kicked up by mustangs
Antelope and deer.
Where the roads cross
Leading to Austin
Middlegate Gabbs
A cabin once stood
For what purpose?
Stage stop?
Pioneer farm?
Hunter's shack?
Ghostly whispers tell
No tales upon the wind.
It's more intriguing
To wonder.