Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

at the old bonnie claire site
in solemn contours of the far side
in the garden of an escapist child
stare into temples of isolation
rare chambers of mind

chestnut mustangs watch from a rise
shocking color in pale get-lost badlands
on the universe of glare without scale
warrior spirits, utterly still
a supernatural fluke

wild burros fit better
pack mules of the oldtimers
low, gray build to fit beaten rock
seems they appear from nowhere
when lost in the changing face of sky
and the mustangs never move

everything seems to slow down when your view isn't blocked by a skyscraper, and your mind can relax at the horizon as nature instead of buildings asserts itself.....

three cheers for the wild !

yes. it just struck me, the last time i was out there, how much color (and scale?) that horse lent to the "get-lost badlands." he was not completely still (i made that up)... he was charging hard, and stopped to watch me...

I went on a road trip to North Dakota with my son and his fiance two years ago this Christmas. My God, nothing could have prepared me for the Badlands. I can say the silence outside and inside were immeasurable.

We went to Roosevelt National Park and a mare walked over to me I wish I would have touched her. We were close enough. We Drove with the bisons, as if we were the same herd.

Thanks for the memory.