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Sometimes
when I walk out onto the prairie,
I am reminded
of how much goes on
that I never see;
how much happens
every day
that I never know happens.
Yesterday,
as Maizey and I walked,
I noticed a few birds,
though not as many
as back at the house
eating from the feeders.
But I was struck by
how still the prairie is.
Oh, there were sounds;
the wind was whippy
and, blowing from the west,
I could hear traffic roaring
on the Interstate.
This was a deeper quiet—
a sound beneath sound;
a big stillness.
And then I realized;
I could sense it:
the land is asleep.