I look around at the endless sky
and the prairie grass growing green and high.
The prairie hens squawk and run
as a pioneer man fires his gun.
We sold our canvas-covered wagon;
now, we live in a snug cabin.
Sometimes we feel rather alone,
but at least it’s a place
to call our own.
They Monster They Saw
All around town, they feared him for his scars, His claws, his shadowed eyes. They labeled him a monster All...
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