“The Alien”

So far away

On these High Desert Plains

Even the Voice of the Wind has a different Timber.

A Lifetime away

In Soft Green Hollers

Yellow Daffodils curtsy to warm Spring Winds,

And Purple Irises stand proud under Mama Mockingbird’s keen eye.

Here there is no Softness

But the April Snow blanketing the Gray Sagebrush.

The Magpie and the Raven

Watch over craggy slopes

And sail in a cold Gale.

An Alien,

I observe…

And listen…

And Wonder…

At Differences in Similarities

That punctuate the Distance.

Then the Wind lays down,

And the Magpie sleeps,

And Soft Silver Light settles upon it All.


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