Blizzard Notes
From Wikisource
| ←Village in Late Summer | Cornhuskers by Blizzard Notes |
Sunset From Omaha Hotel Window→ |
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I DON’T blame the kettle drums—they are hungry.
And the snare drums—I know what they want—they are empty too.
. . .
The howling spears of the Northwest die down.
The lullabies of the Southwest get a chance, a mother song.
A cradle moon rides out of a torn hole in the ragbag top of the sky.