Plains

Watch the redness move in,

And cover the plains like blood,

With the shadows of the day falling Beneath the young cedars,

On the western side so far from here

The day is almost done,

Headstones made from trees and

Scrubs, with covers of salty grass

Each as far and as wide as can

Be seen, with the sun dangling

In the distance,

beginning another night.

Ralph Peck

Photography by Mark Mascilli