One sky and ocean give one wind -- always give,

history told by hers in stories

Like silver moon crescendoing that love

that sometimes weaving one wind carrying the Great Plains,

or the hilltop morning mirrors,

words taking breathers out of pages,

Light farms and planting geometry ever.

That yields to rooting rhythm of then charging the Red River and oranges blush.

Hear then Hear it then through the designs: ridges, pivots and protein sing

for every rooftop and seesaw swing.