White warriors posted in the wind, arms moving like synchronized swimmers to a symphony of corn husks and diesel engines. I see them towering in the distance like watchful giants of a fairy tale once told. I am so small and insignificant when standing next to them, these monoliths woven into the heartland’s quilted fields….

This content is for Friends of Burningword 3-Day Pass, Friends of Burningword 3-Month Subscription, Friends of Burningword Annual Subscription and Basic Member members.
Log In Register
%d bloggers like this: