Apr/May 2000 Poetry

Prairie Tongue

by Desiree Peterson


Prairie Tongue

I speak a prairie language
an expanse of rippling grass
fickle in the stroking tongue of wind
sudden crevasses and canyons
crumble the earth beneath your feet
where once was solid ground
my eyes are forever looking past you
into a subtle horizon

you could watch me walking for days
without truly realizing
how far away I am


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