Back 40: Montana Wind


it rushes up
through dry feather grass
pushes the antelope 
over the ridge

drops off
a limestone cliff

rolls along the slope
through the scrub cedar

rattles the branches
shakes a nesting
turtle dove
into flight
riffles out across the Rosebud River

catches in thick thorns
of a plum thicket
rimming the bank

and lays down
dying

moaning its wau ya pi song

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