How could she love me like the wind -
So touch my face, and make it bend
To her, and then soon disappear
On backs of white-tailed leaping deer?
As quickly as a norther blows
O'er prairie land, and never slows,
And ripples wheat like ocean waves,
She stirred my soul; she made me slave
To her, to wind, that travels on.
And after all the breeze has blown,
And all the leaves and flags are free,
Alone I stand in slavery.
Dennis Lange
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-lost-love-9/
