Read Poem: You My Dusky Hue, by Renee Bousquet

The range in its majesty gives way to open thoughts of the wild things in taming, I have eaten hard pan and dust as my regular meal to be had.

I to the constant trail beaten into the saddle just see what could not be tamed. There is beauty found within the beasts of the fields, within the tree’s to the treeline. They all feeble things next to you my dusky hue.

I but a small man in wealth not much to the offering bowl, to live from the saddle bags by choice not many would do.

I live half-feral, fighting the hard winds when necessary, blanketed in snow a brutal life. I follow in blindness of white, head down in the snowstorm– yes driven to see you.

I would but to give my all in any form to last breath in glimpsing you my dusky hue. I would then…