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Love Affair with the Platte

In the pristine high country
of the Snowy Range,
the warmth of early summer
melts the winter.
The mountains say,
"Leave us
so that meadows my bloom,
pines may candle
and man may tarry
to marvel at our awesome majesty."
And the infant Platte complies.

The earthen dams say,
"Let us have your water
that we may heat and cool cities,
that we may hold boats and fish.
And the Platte complies.

Now on the flatland, the farmer says,
"Let me have your water
that I may flood the land
to nourish man and beast."
And the Platte complies.

The waterfowl of the Big Bend say,
"Let us have enough water
that we may have safe roosting."
And the Platte complies.

The murky, powerful Missouri says,
"Let me have your water
that I may swell
to make room for barges
as they churn to their destinations."
And the Platte complies
     and sighs
          and dies.

- Sydney Kruse

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