The Wind’s Solitary Dance: Moving Freely Across the Open Plains

The West wasn’t won by luck—it was carved by determination and hard work.

Beneath the boundless, azure dome,

The wind whispers secrets, wild and alone.

Across the prairies, it twirls and sways,

A nomads song on sunlit days.

It sweeps through sage, a breath of grace,

Kissing the earth with a fleeting embrace.

Cattle graze slow in the golden hue,

As shadows stretch long, the world feels new.

In rustling grass, untamed and bold,

The tales of old can be softly told.

With each gust, the past comes alive,

In the dance of the wind, the spirits thrive.

As dusk descends with a painted sky,

The winds soft lullaby starts to sigh.

A cowboys heart beats to natures tune,

Together they roam, beneath the crescent moon.