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Spirit Grass

spirit grass wind wanders through invisible bison graze raise dust devils that flirt with larks buzzing insects in the air swirl dip rise into the sun swishes almost whispers play around ears not quite within range for words ghosts less than clear more than shadows, skydance green blades reach between the bones of children grandmothers, mothers, wise men sweet red blood fed the roots a time ago

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 10/23/2017 6:14:00 PM
Genocide of first people? Slaughter of the bison? Assassination of the prairie grasses by domesticated livestock? All of the above? None of the above? The universe responds in kind occasionally. Fires, earthquakes and such. Yet spirit survives. I guess. Maybe too much wandering in the sagebrush on my daily walkabout. Pretty stuff, smells good. Didn't used to notice. Sometimes I even listen. A pensive poop I seem to be today... sorry. ~ j
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Date: 10/19/2017 9:14:00 PM
"green blades reach between the bones of children." Really like this line. Nice allegory you have here.
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Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/19/2017 9:33:00 PM
Thank you Richard.
Date: 10/19/2017 7:51:00 AM
Deep poetry here, Patricia, well done:)
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Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/19/2017 8:21:00 AM
Something I am wrestling with thank you for understanding.
Date: 10/18/2017 10:49:00 PM
Speechless. How about "fave".
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Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/19/2017 7:26:00 AM
Thank you Maureen. You seem o be coming back to yourself. I hope this month is easier for you.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things