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monday in wyoming

Nicholas Ansel

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now it will rain forever
not in the windowshops and gallery houses
and not off the front porch
beside a bargain dollar rocking chair
but in the rolling hills of the east
and the grapefruit-colored highways,
in the boundless northern forests
onto spruce trees and conifers
and on the elevated plateaus and ancient ridges
of the state’s western architecture
past herds of grazing cattle
and bluebirds and the envious enduring spirit,
now and forever it will rain