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Alberta Bound (V3) by Michael Lee Johnson 2017-03-14 11:13:29 |
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I own a gate to this prairie that ends facing the Rocky Mountains. They call it Alberta, trail of endless blue sky, asylum of endless winters, hermitage of indolent retracted sun. Deep freeze drips haphazardly into spring. Drumheller, dinosaur badlands, dried bones, ancient hoodoos sculpt high, prairie toadstools. Alberta highway 2 opens the gateway of endless miles. Travel weary I stop by roadsides, ears open to whispering pines. In harmony, North to South Gordon Lightfoot pitches out a tune, "Alberta Bound." With independence in my veins, I am long way from home.
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Michael Lee Johnson kindly made available for us an audio, reading of the poem. You can listen to it, HERE!

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