The Prairie Wind by Bob MacKenzie for C. H. Burton If only you had known how, being so easy to know in life, how hard to write about after, you would be. You, having known something of this and something of that and, yes, something of almost everything. You, with your need to know what was beyond that door, with your fear of what you knew was waiting there. This was the tension, this was the basis of all our love, the Fire, the need that even as it consumes burns as beautiful as a Phoenix until, finally, having known something of Earth and something of Air and something of Sea, and yes, of Fire, you chose to pass through yet another shining door. I always thought of you as a sailor, sailing the sky, high on a prairie gull. published: Souldust and Pearls [anthology], 1981 |