Open Spaces

L.T. Garvin

The line between

gray winter

and bright-eyed spring

dims today

adrift in the chill

of feathery fair-weather clouds

and the short, shrill songs

of rain-soaked birds

Still the regal blooms peek

from underfoot

weeds cavorting as wild flowers

cows calculate

the distance along

a fence line

You can abandon all

in the center of prime land

and silence

cool country purity

scan the distance of miles

enveloping you

reach through the slices

and paint your lost horizons

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