Medicine Show

Risk is always the same,
south of the stranger
edge of town, we wander

the open range, the harmed
jagged mountains, bigger
than the Estes valley.

I don’t crave the sensation
to dig into the fields of ember,
only linger in the crevices

of the granite-covered clouds.
There’s a silence that pulls
souls to loam, higher plateaus

of registered knowledge, ghosts
only cradling the red rocks reaching
for tapestry of indigo insight…

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