Soft dry gray dust ankle deep
covers my feet.
Stars in a thick blanket
fill my sight.
Rainbows after rainfalls
paint my imagination.
Chinook winds like magic
warm me.
The brustling of the tall grass swaying on the prairie;
the humming of solar winds lighting up the northern sky,
their whispered rush down the heavens;
the drumming of thunder gathering in the foothills,
its long stampede to a sudden sharp and shaking crash;
the scattering of raindrops tapping on the ground,
converging to a torrent slapping down;
the rustling of wind-blown cottonwood and poplar,
revive my soul.
Garnet Robbie © 2009