Each time I look out

Onto those hazy yellow fields of blowing grain

Like soft waves drifting before the white house

On the very top of those hills.

Dreaming of dancing in a white chiffon dress

Bare, like a veil to the Earth

Unafraid of the sharp grass

Arms out wide to hold the sun.

The crunch of gravel

On mud-soaked roads

From all the melting snow

Revealing vernal pools of cool deep blue

Blades of green poking out

Searching for tadpoles in the crystal water

Putting a drop to my forehead

Just to feel the cold.

The first evening filled with velvet light

Walking atop the line of hay bales

Longingly gazing at the two great silos

And the herd of Bison

Walking slow with the Earth on their backs

If you looked into their dark eyes

You’d find it’s anything but empty.