i hold the dust of these amid changing stars.

O prairie mother, I am one of your boys.  
I have loved the prairie as a man with a heart shot full of pain over love.  
Here I know I will hanker after nothing so much as one more sunrise or a sky moon of fire doubled to a river moon of water.
.    .    .
I speak of new cities and new people.  
I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.          
I tell you yesterday is a wind gone down,  
  a sun dropped in the west.  
I tell you there is nothing in the world  
  only an ocean of to-morrows,  
  a sky of to-morrows.          

I am a brother of the cornhuskers who say  
  at sundown:  
        To-morrow is a day.

--- from Prairie. Carl Sandburg. 1918.

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