surrounded by my origins, I have lost
all my becoming – I do not want
to end where I began, but this dust
in my lungs, these grasses that tangle
around my ankles, these great vast skies

that taunt me with the other they can see

and I cannot, these fields and fields
and fields that would harness me
to their cycles till all the wild in me
is worn and clay remains –
this prairie: this prairie suffocates me,
her songs and secrets all the same
as when I fled her last.

I want the cym, the crag, the cliff,
I want the cold that does not know me,
I want the silence that calls my tongue
to speak new words, I want to find her
in search of whom I first set out.

About the poet: Cassondra Windwalker earned a BA of Letters from the University of Oklahoma. She pursued careers in book-selling and law enforcement, careers which intersect more than more people suspect. Her poetry, short stories and essays have been published in a number of literary journals and art books.