Give me wide skies
And small cities,
Clean air,
And miles
Of flowing, clear
Rivers.
Give me herds
of wild horses,
Ancient pronghorn,
Magnificent elk,
And bison;
Let me watch
From a distance
A moose feeding
On water grasses,
And the formidable grizzly
From an even greater
Distance.
Let me know people
Who live close to the land,
Who speak straight and true ,
Who see life through
A simple lens
Of what is, is,
And whose idea of rushing
Is to corral
A runaway calf.
Give me back the freedom
I once knew,
That “something” which
Only that earth,
Wyoming earth,
Can give me,
Something intangible
Yet tangible,
Roots that allowed me
To run,
Ever beckoning
And calling me
Home.
Rebecca, I loved this poem. We all need to be more in touch with the natural surroundings the good Lord provided for us. I loved the Northwest States and lived for about five years in Colorado. I live in Florida, and my little fraction of an acre is being slowly converted into a fruit and vegetable plantation. Gardening is just pure fun. Let's return to nature, for natural beauty surrounds us in the great outdoors. Thank you for your inspirational poem! Amen X 110
You have described Wyoming well from the few times that I've been there. What's holding you from going back?
Every time I return to the Bay Area of San Francisco, I feel like I'm "coming home." Even though most of those I've known there the three years that I was there are either dead or have left.
Expands beyond the safety of pages bound by predictability to explore and often confirm exciting creative possibilities. A shimmering collage of memoir, creative nonfiction, literary journalism, and dizzying flights into poetic observation, this is t
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Regis. 🙏🌳🦋🌲🐦
Every time I return to the Bay Area of San Francisco, I feel like I'm "coming home." Even though most of those I've known there the three years that I was there are either dead or have left.
Ron
Ed