Secondarily Wild By Eric Westerlind • A crippling wind breaks the stalks of long wheat in bunches, and a fire rages over the mountains; horses gallop black-to-grey in the smoke. It gives me pause. I stand on the one rock on the knoll and the air clears enough for me to catch wind of something burning I can admit to not knowing, but recognizing…
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2 years ago · Eric Westerlind