Road to Cheyenne Butte, Ft. Robinson NE, June 29 2014
Sun setting over the rolling hills, prairie sea washing up against butte bluffs. They were out there, I know. I sensed them. In fleet passing, I glimpsed them hunkered down in green-gold grass hammered against the cerulean dome of the sky.
They became part of me. I hope I became a part of them. We left them to their own imaginings out there on the plain, and returned to our own beds. That night, I dreamed I wandered on a sea of grass illuminated by the pale milk of distant suns. On my skin, I felt the warm breath of the herd and was not afraid.