America, Somewhere Behind Me

Like some Tatar hothead on a horse,
I'll fly to Kyrgyzstan to camp out on
The desert there. I'll view the mountains
Through the heat, and ask, “Am I still
In Montana?,” but I'll feel, as he once
Did, a welcome lightness in my spirit,
Having galloped from my land's
Imperial decay.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 74 times
Written on 2016-06-23 at 14:58

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