She's discovered now
where the tumbleweeds go
as they tumble further down
the windswept road
her body slumbers now
in the tall grass roots
where she had planted
her wild heart long ago
while her spirit soars
on smoky raven wings
through storms of stardust
and moonlit thunder snow
her words, yes her words
they carry on
as lifting as feathers
as enduring as Poe
the weather she's known
in barren western lands
gathering love and hope
that she continues to sow
what she has given through
her beautiful, varied scars
to bless so many hearts
that she will never know
- for my very dear friend, Ronda
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