Sunday, January 20, 2019

Late Night Squall

I am a daughter of the prairie and limitless skies. My heart sings whenever I travel west to the Dakotas, open land and unending horizons before me. Sky views from the expanse of windows from where I live, ten floors up, soothe my soul bound by the city. And when I pay attention, the heavens tell endless tales.



                  Late Night Squall


A bruised dawn awakens puffy and purple,
     the corner of the horizon sanguinary

                               as

       Sol struggles to peer through slits
                      in the overcast.              



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

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