Along the priarielands--
rolling hills   previously
  roamed 
by wild buffalo.

Grouse
sage hens
prairie chickens
pheasant
hungarian partridge

     and now you--

You, in that pretty, flowing
summer dress- walking that
line.. between planted field
and wild prairiegrass

    and not a blade is broken.

Wind-- moving the grass and
nearly-ripened crops like
slow rolling waves 
        out on the sea.

Me.. watching you
      move.. just watching you-- move..
along that line between
beautifully-planted
and natural.. 

   and moving with understanding;

   flowing--
   ever-growing

   knowing.. sweetly knowing
   that there's a glowing
   from what you are showing--  me;

   Not a blade of grass or crop is
   ever harmed by your movements
      instead.. like me, they thrive--

      leaning into you 
      whenever you are near.
             .       .       .

      I am the grass
      the blade
      the crop-- ready for harvest
      the bison
      and the upland bird

      the forever wave hello
      of the tall grass of the prairie.

      And you are as much a
      part of it all
      as you are  of me.

      Like the native grass
      and the native Lakota
         that have  both
      always  known its ways..

      you were always meant to be here.

The Gram sir,
polygonal father firefly
stand in Cibatus ...
thread and thread form light.

In the year 1300
miliérnaga great night,
the Lucibatus provoke a detritment an *****
He fell back to Cibatus
And her delicate body broke into two parts...

In the center was in "A";
Her two columns
Stumble down at the head of Mr. Gram.

He in the compartment,
The pulverized seeds scraped
Galloping ice that undermined the Cibatus
The year in 1200,
Oh syllogism much light!
You coordinate the central hole Cibatus basket;
gramineous navel dim oracle
Coming through the middle,
Dodona River as light.


In the center of barley,
Mr. Gram healed their wounds;
Fecracia corpuscles,
Major ***** Susea ...
that ruled with all his power by blizzards.

"Not Cibatus or broken,
traditional custom was broken by wind
and not by Light gram "

In the dark night of San Corinth,
It fell night where Mr. Gram asleep ...
happy told the fierfly
your damage would not alter its sun.

Toward the end of the day,
He said his greatest roar...
Their wings hawked loose
Cibatus noise pain!

Lat night came,
and invisible, transparent body
wanted spring,
Love this protozoan
Cibatus alone.

Farewell  said fierfly in 1300,
when it fell by the protozoan crag ...
Signs metal birds
They said ...; Aaaah ..!
and noise Gram God,
They said! Aaaaah ... Aaah ...!

Nor no hugs or charity,
the rough particle spring circle
flierfly donated the ***** ...
Limestone Road
He loved the feet of ash,
white bodies laughed
and they transmuted his absent body.

Flierfly he opened his eyes...
Cibatus looked at his winged whistling song:
" Fly Fierfly,
stretch your threads;
Mr. Whiskers love Gram ...
buried next to the root of Cibatus "

Farewell Thousand Three Hundred ... !



JOSÉ LUIS  CARREÑO TRONCOSO
10 to 11 July 1995.

Long tiring days,
Destination home,
Idyllic waistline,
Perfect head,
Must be frosty,
Delicious barley,
Always, makes the week worth it.