In all seasons, and at all times,
Luring me to their footsteps.
Steep hillsides clawing at the sky,
Multicolor quilts grandmother wove.
Tumbling, fold after fold,
Yielding colors not yet discovered.
Vistals spreading out,
Like and oil painting below.
Serenity hugging my shoulder,
Like grandmother's shawl.
Satisfaction giving way,
To elation and tears.
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