when I stood in the prairie

nothing was taller

only I saw the full yellow arc of the sun

connecting the circle

to the pale white moon

only I heard the birdsong cricket sounds

of the endless prairie

wind and sky flew by me

as I raced across the mesa

and skimmed the floor of an ancient sea

I ran with the thunder of the power of the emptiness

through the strong silence of the prairie

when I could run no longer

my breath steaming

my chest foamed

my legs weak

I stood still

and still I saw endless prairie

tidal winds ebbed and flowed over the grass land where I grazed

I lifted my head to the windsound of the wolf

howling to the vastness an exuberant song of the sanctity

of the loneliness

of the endless prairie

when I stood in the prairie

nothing was taller

I was the Buffalo