Waterfront buildings
play hide-and-seek
through the evening fog.
There are no hoodoos here,
no sculptured coulees
carving canyon bottoms,
no purple majesty separating
the vastness of azure
from the bone horizon.
Here,
there is only me,
thoughts wandering westward
to you wondering the prairie
under slightly kiltered stars.
Without you, this moonlight
streaming over my fingers
is a bowl of milk, spilt.
.
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