Red Cloud
1.
lace curtains
Venus at dusk
Nebraska
an old story—
wind ruffles
the pages of a book
no longer salvage—
an expensive quilt;
prairie, wind, train whistle
loneliness
made more lonely
by a lonely tale
2.
blue horses
come over the ridge
of the mind
warriors painted on hide
songlines tell us about
water/no water
even a small girl
in her nightgown
might fly barefoot
over the town’s steeples
and train tracks
every thing
in its essence
yearns
to go elsewhere
Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond 
Amazingly evocative. I can almost smell the prairie earth.
Thank you! Slept in Willa Cather’s house–inspiring.
I wonder why blue horses say so much more than — oh, green horses…
That is the mysterious quest of every poem, I think…