The Badlands

In this post you’ll find our layout a bit flip-flopped with the poem from Kate coming at the beginning instead of at the end. Enjoy her words and the pictures below!

The Hidden Badlands

Brown and brittle
December prairie
rolls and undulates
right on through
the horizon.

With no warning
the earth collapses
into canyons
of striped rock
marbled with a dusting
of snow.

It seems a barren
wasteland,
a trap
waiting
to ensnare
an unassuming
passerby.

Do not be deceived.
Be still
and watch.

Finches flutter,
solitaires soar,
and chickadees chirp
their cheerful hellos.

A squirrel scampers
then leaps
onto a lush green branch
of pine.

Despite their name,
given by others,
they are a sustaining source
for generations of life.

2 thoughts on “The Badlands

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