Appreciate the beauty
of stacks of firewood.
Or the sounds of tall, tall trees
Their leaves glistening like tambourines,
coins on a woman’s collarbone.
Say silent thank-you’s for the clouds
The majesty of their shadows
-on canyons and Badlands-
some people never fly above them.
The air fresh like a new day,
carrying the faint smell of beets-
earthen work done by honest men.
Travel to see yourself from far away.
Fargo, July 20, 2009
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