Nebraska Fields

When the wind blows

across the fields

I sit in thought

and listen. 
Never has

a softer word been spoken;

never a sigh 

so gentle or so sweet. 
When the moon rises peacefully 

gracing the sky,

silver and serene,

I smile. 
Never has selflessness been

here given;

never has caring

had truer depth. 
(Written sometime between 1979-1983)

©Laurie Lynn Newman

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