Date: 8/22/2019
By andotherpoems
Sometimes I’m on the freeway and I glimpse it as I pass by, sometimes I’m specifically journeying to get to it. To the right of the freeway are hills and sandstone bluffs, but through a break in them, I spot it. A dirt path leads to the opening in the rock, maybe 75 feet wide. The path leads to a grassy hill, on which rests a natural rock formation shaped like a tower. It narrows as it goes upward, but then abruptly spreads out, like a mushroom. Sometimes, on the side facing away, there’s a ladder or steps to the top, and in the top is a sort of room, totally open on one side. That side faces green, grassy countryside, and in the distance, yellow sandstone mountains. Sometimes, straight ahead, you can see an opening like a tunnel through the mountains, and I get the sense that I need to get there. This tower feels like a gateway, or a way station. It almost feels like I could find it in the real world, if I look.