Wednesday, July 1, 2015

the sun was dropping low in the west

you saw a vision of me,--
skin burnt, bandanna tied 'round neck
scuffed boots, faded, frayed wool socks
red flannel shirt, torn at one elbow,
worn corduroys rolled up to knees,
hat pulled low over brow
rucksack on back,
--slouching into the coming fog;
one step from gone,
the wide open prairie.
grass like greatest widest ocean
before me, tossed under 
storm clouds darker than night.

I was a phantom you said.
I had never lived, you said.

the world was like a snow globe, you said.

Here, you can see for miles.
Here, you blinked at big open sky
Here, red rolling hills stared back,

I used them to
covered my escape.

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