Eastern Montana prairies struggle
Too little rain,
Too much wind
Too much cold and heat.

In dire extremes
Living things have learned
To live a life of second chances,
Save some seeds from sprouting,
Produce more than can be used,
Find a quiet shelter from the wind to grow,
Never stand too tall against incessant wind,
(There's certain strength in being small)....

A cactus revels quietly in scarcities,
Flowering briefly,
Concealing water in a leather skin,
Resting in spiny clumps
Of resilient solitude.

Blue grama grasses
Curl toward the earth,
Decline the luxuries of height
To put on seed,
And stand in wiry toughness
Moving beneath sun and wind.

A weathered look befits exposure to the elements;
Gnarled branches speak the will to live;
Grasses, brown and speckled mark desperate thirst;
Frays and fissures delineate wins and losses
Against passing time.

Patience endures the ravagers' scorn.