Pawhuska

Leather boots trudge
long lines,
old row crops.

Bison stampede,
push down weeds.

Twisters ravage,
indigo cream
steams spun into red soil.

Orange monarchs sip
heavy milkweed tips,
tall grass drenched in rain.

You lay me

down under rough edges,

palms frayed like
open wheat husks.

Nothing

uproots

love.

-Bethany Wallace

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