Prairie winds reach for my earth stained hair
Struggling against its mighty grip
Powerful forces burn my dust covered face
A tiny cloud colored farmhouse looms in the distance
Many miles traveled to reach this point in time
A weathered old farmer shouts,

hello

The wind carries his voice into my ear
Only a whisper of humanity
Raising a hand to greet the old man
I am stopped by the invisible wind
A smile of relief comes easy to my face
I yell past the wind to the farmer

hello