Out To The West Poem by Alexander Beebe

I sit and gaze out to the west
as the sun beats down upon my face.
The wind that blows with all her might
leaves barren twigs upon this place.

The hawk that circles in the sky
in search of feasts with frightened minds.
I gaze upon his wandering flight
which leaves me smiling with grand delight.

Oh west where crowds of searchers pass
to hills of gold and colored glass.
What stories hide beneath the sand
of valiant souls that crossed this land.

Bankers with their fancy coats
adorned with golden chains,
enlist the backs of Asian men
and dreamers who all seek to gain.

All for westward bounty that
their hearts long to expose,
with no regard for harm or life this
westward march that they have chose.

Adorned with turquoise and painted pots
scattered arrows and blackened rocks.
Once sacred ground for native man
but now removed from his own land.

So now the blood is red no more
from veins that man has crushed and torn.
The needle now is pumping black from
earthly veins of sand and frac.


What will it take to ease the mind
of men who search for endless wealth?
For one day when we reach the end
the hawk will feed upon his health

Oh west where crowds of searchers pass
to hills of gold and colored glass.
What stories hide beneath the sand
of valiant souls that crossed this land.