Out in the prairie, a strong wind has
nearly laid flat the tall stalks of needle and thread and crested wheatgrass. The grass trembles as it submits to the force
of rushing air. My cat is out there,
hunkered down, suddenly frozen rigid by a strong gust. His thick coat of fur has been spread open by
the wind, revealing stark whiteness underneath—like a color screaming. His ears are laid back. His eyes wild.
If I should ever tell you I love you
as strong as the wind blows, this is what I mean.
—Mitchell Hegman
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