I live at the Stable Gallery most days,
grooming my resiliency,
celebrating the joy of joys.
Let's go, brothers and sisters,
we're going West,
maps in hand, crumpled or not.
The frontier waits patient,
the Badlands we will run,
furs we will trade,
mocassins we will fashion,
reeds we will chew,
canyons we will jump,
fossils we will paint,
red shirts we will wear,
berries we will hunt,
hope we will know.
Mines and pines and dust bowls.
A love caravan like no other.
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1 comment:
jesus christ, sarah.
your words make me zealous.
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