LEWISTON

I am looking out the window,
And across the Clearwater River.
The hill behind is very tall,
And brown and soft and dominating.
Erosion lines cover its face,
Much like life's lines cover mine.
I see below a lot of trees,
providing shade for the town.
It's not a big place as cities go,
But its heritage pales to few.
It is named for a man who opened the West,
And it opens the West for us.
Our bike will take us to another state,
Just after the sun rises tomorrow.
We will leave the state that took the Corps,
Out of the grasp of the Bitter Roots.

Ron