How a Poem Continues.

I am lost among her spires of glass and stone and light,
among her winding shores and craggy creeks-
All this because I could not
ignore her when she called to me across
the Black Hills and where the burly bison sun by sulfur pools.
She found me among the briny sea air that fingered wiry palms,
and I could not hide.

Come back.

I ran to her dark rivers, black as the womb,
the salt of the Pacific still sifting quietly in my blood,
burning my eyes with all I'd left behind.

You belong here.

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