Elizabeth Clarke and David Johnson
Endless miles of scrub and brush
touch my soul with feelings of timelessness.
The sun fades, leaving its last purplish shadows
seeming as imprints on the sand.
The Joshua Tree stands forever, a symbol
of the stubborness of the Western spirit.
Scanning the horizen, a search for the
tumbleweed,Â a look into the western wanderlust.
An alien landscape, yet a call to the heart,
untouched, unspoiled, the might of America.
West we travel and leave the crowded cities
and their claustrophobia, embracing the vastness.