Wyoming

Puffs of smoke try to escape the wide brim of his Stetson,

curling in the still heavy air.

They form spirals and coils,

writing messages in a strange alphabet.

I try to form pictures from the tendrils,

desperate for any glimpse of a future I seem to have no control over,

but all I see are white horses galloping across an endless blue expanse.

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1 thought on “Wyoming”

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