Altamont Pass

by Samuel De Lemos

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On our road trip
we pass the
Altamont,

Straight up hill
the engine chugs
along.

This route leads
to the Bay
going Westward.

And the
Valley
going towards
the East.

It’s a landmark
that as a child
I still recall,

the giant
windmills
standing
oh so tall.

White markers
that harness the
wind;

some are
ferociously spinning
while
some stand
quietly
still.

They’re sandwiched
in between the
yellow ochre earth
of the rolling
California hills;

and the
infinite
cerulean blue
of the cloudless
Western skies.

When I spot them
I’m happy inside,

whether they’re
turning or not,

it makes no
difference to
me.

As they’re
like sentries;

that guard
my childhood
memories.

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