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50 a​dance​For​the​inland​sea Water​that​moves,​in​a​bodylike​stream, through​its​cool​channels​fills​the​warm​prairie’s​dream. Waking​to​tend​it,​the​grass-​ moving​sky pours​with​grasses.​Big​Bluestem’s​drinking​roots​lie nine​feet​down​the​waving,​remembering​sod they​have​swum​through,​to​feed​on,​to​build.​When​it​swings like​a​wing​in​small​flight,​when​it​sways, turkey​feet​murmur,​red​three-​ toed​feet​sing. Little​Bluestem,​as​copper​as​autumn​or​clay, floating​seeds​past​the​prairie’s​dense,​watery​hand till​they​shimmer​to​columns,​wet​smoke​on​the​land; Indian​Grass,​lapping​up​the​spattering​sun; prairies​step​slower​than​palaces,​down under​the​teeming​roof​of​the​ground, quiet​as​animals.​Then,​when​they​rise, prairies,​like​palaces,​loom,​and​surprise. ...

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