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About Lesley Stuart-Smith




Western Skies

High above bustling eastern streets
The hazy scent of autumn
Beckons to a childhood
Spent under western skies.

I stood in an August grain field
Soft prairie breeze on my face
Endless golden waves surrounded me
Alone but never lonely.

I rested from shimmering midday
In the high-ceiling'd coolness of a barn
Breathed the warmth of fresh milk
The freshness of new-mown hay

I flew over rolling prairie
Free as the wayward wind
The pungent scent of sage
Thrown up by galloping hooves

I walked through a brooding half-light
Of a rocky mountain glen
Delight in the sudden bright emerald
Of a tiny hidden glade

I stood by a cold mountain stream
Guarded by boulder and pine
Breathed the tang of sap
And softness of wildflower

Leaning on the roughness of railing
In the twilight of fading day
The clear sweet tone of a meadow lark
Brought by the evening breeze

High above bustling eastern streets
A child of the foothills
For western skies

2003, Lesley Stuart-Smith


About Lesley Stuart-Smith:

A native Albertan, Lesley spent a number of years in "Eastern Exile." She is very happy to be back in the shadow of the Rockies, and is currently working on more poetry and other creative writing projects.



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