The Sound of the Prairies

wheat at its finest. long before the cut of blade and grinding of teeth – it sings through clear wind – rolling waves, soft in their hush raising old ones souls, ingraining lifetimes upon the wanderer’s skin – raising hairs on necks – recognizing sound as it is meant to be heard – wheat is heeded wind. always, wheat whispers hush…(the heart of prairie grass) through the mouth of wind.