If you're not from the prairie, You've not heard the grass, You've never heard grass...
In strong summer winds, the grains and grass bend
And say to a dance that seems never to end.
It whispers its secrets -- they tell of this land
And the rhythm of life played by nature's own hand.
image: HENRY RIPPLINGER
story: DAVID BOUCHARD
from, If you're not from the prairie . . .