Two friends and I are on an afternoon ride through waist-high shortgrass prairie of Rockin’ P Ranch open range near Broadview, New Mexico. The gentle, smooth and rhythmic pace of a relaxed flat-footed walk by my stallion named Trouble allows me to drift into reverie about the wonders of vast Llano Estacado grasslands. Afterwards, I wax poetic.
My spirit soars when eye to eye
With Tasiwóo on Staked Plain;
Where red-tailed hawks rule azure sky
And spadefoots trumpet summer rain.
Where pronghorn flash rumps on the fly
And cougars prowl escarpment chain;
Where sandhill cranes lift hearts on high
And prairie dogs build their domain.
Where milkweed hosts monarch fly-by
And cholla adds flair to terrain;
Where lark song thrills, moods fortify
And swallows are known weathervanes.
Where horned toads squirt blood from their eye
And stink bugs spray pungent refrain;
Where coon-tail buzz stops heart well-nigh
And swift fox threads cactus chicane.
Where sunset skies God glorify,
And monsoon rains can be insane;
Where Blue Northers cause hue and cry
And lazy Moon croons gentle strain.
Where dry-land crops barely scrape by
And sand dunes impede life’s fast lane;
Where coyotes play in sage waist-high
And nature’s marvels give heart free rein.
Where starlit skies draw eyes sky high
And soul surrenders, it’s germane;
Reverence brims storehouse of mind’s eye—
Life on the plain is not mundane.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
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