The Sound of the Prairies
wheat at its finest.
long before the cut of blade
and grinding of teeth –
it sings through clear wind –
rolling waves, soft in their hush
raising old ones souls,
ingraining lifetimes
upon the wanderer’s skin –
raising hairs on necks –
recognizing sound
as it is meant to be heard –
wheat is heeded wind.
always, wheat whispers
hush…(the heart of prairie grass)
through the mouth of wind.
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