Reading some Richard Hugo tonight, and some lines from his poem "Driving Montana," that seemed to fit the photo I...

Reading some Richard Hugo tonight, and some lines from his poem "Driving Montana," that seemed to fit the photo I posted earlier:

Tomorrow will open again, the sky wide
as the mouth of a wild girl. friable 
clouds you lose yourself to. You are lost in
miles of land without people, without
one fear of being found: in the dash
of rabbits, soar of envelope, swirl
merge and clatter of streams.

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