When am I the antelope,
the eagle,
the horizon bracing
against the wind,
the fences cutting the bleeding
wild into disordered time?
When am I the wildflowers,
when am I the snow
blotting out the road?
When am I the chalice
of stillness holding
all I see?
Where does the body end
and the plains begin?
published in The Journal of Radical Wonder
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