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Nancy Harris Mclelland

Poetry, Prose, Opinions about Aging from an Ex-cowgirl Octogenarian.

Independence Valley

Watch the restless swallows come and go


on the power line to Tuscarora.


Some avian law explains the way


birds leave space between one another.



Instinct decrees  distance between hawks


hunched on poles beside the Midas Road


and tells peregrine falcons  to nest 


at least two miles from other raptors.



What of the ranchers who inhabit


the range below?  From an eagle’s view


 above the plain, distance makes sense:


 what the high desert land can sustain.



 A question remains.  Does distance breed


 those disinclined to be near their kind? 


The trails of truck dust on country roads 


show the miles folks  go to help each other.



Not everyone is meant for this place.


Generations who stay find solace


in silence, comfort in kindred souls,


 God in the sunsets and the space.


 

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