She comes to me alone
Running from a snowbound
Desolate valley of doubt
Shivering from cold
Yet fiery with passion
She tells of her native country
Stories of a river now dry
A lover now parted
A brother, lost forever
She walks confidently near me
Head inclined to the sun
Tall, lean, full of grace
I smell courage in her scent
See comets blaze in her eyes
Feel the prairie trembling at her feet
She is the presence of power
She is the absence of fear
Tom Scearce