Black whispers the loblolly
Silver whispers the Milky Way
Open listens his eyes
Educated leather
On adventure seeking heels
Pounded by responsibility
And comfortable in silence
Whistling to his horse
Whistling to his wife
Whistling to the fence
Hearing his worries
The buffalo returned
The sage-fires bore the prairie orchid
And the plagues passed
But the nomads have changed
And are lonely-numbered
They document the earth as it was and will be:
Smelling the Blue Northerns
Kicking at the trail
Peering from beneath the brim
Singing to the page
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