Thursday, June 30, 2011

dakota skies

There are places, sky so big, that one tree leaves the mark of a mountain

There are places, sky so big,
that one tree
leaves the mark of a mountain
and a simple inhale
is enough to fill your chest for days

Where dazy blue meets
golden wheat, as far as the eye can see
and hearts are made to wonder
why they're not beating faster, at such
deafening sights

Where telephone lines cross paths with clouds
and ducks fly freely into the wind

Where cows become our wisest friends,
offering from their eyes a quiet hello
or stampeding with pride beside us

Where we stand at nature's lightless intersections
that give no order, but every reason
to pause
to stop
for a full ninety seconds, even
and drop jaws at the moving clouds
each one, a fleeting miracle
each one, a disappearing love
each one, each one, each one

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